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HORSE,  FOOT,  AND  DRAGOONS 

SKETCHES   OF 

ARMY  LIFE  AT  HOME  AND  ABROAD 


BY 

RUFUS    FAIRCHILD   ZOGBAUM 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  THE  AUTHOR 


NEW  YORK 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  FRANKLIN  SQUARE 

London  :  30  Fleet  Street 

1888 


Copyright,  1887,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 


All  rights  reserved. 


TO 
MY   FRIENDS 

IN  THE 

ARMY  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES 


CONTENTS. 


FRANCE: 

Chant  du  Depart 13 

War  Pictures  in  Time  of  Peace 17 

GREAT    BRITAIN: 

The  British  Grenadier 49 

A  Home  of  Tommy  Atkins 53 

GERMANY: 

Reiterlied 75 

A  Night  with  the  Fourth  Corps 79 

UNITED    STATES: 

Stable  Call loi 

Across  Country  with  a  Cavalry  Column     .    .  105 

Benny  Havens,  Oh! 135 

With  the  Bluecoats  on  the  Border     ....  141 


TirH 


sai. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

The  Company  Guidon Frontispiece 

T]ie  Sergeant' s  Salute 6 

A  Field  Musician 8 

Light  Artillery 9 

Cadet  Shako  and  Sivord 12 

Le  CJiant  du  Depart 13 

Chasseur  Orderly 16 

Reveille  {Initial) 17 

A  Corner  of  the  Inn-yard — Early  Morning 19 

In  the  Village  Street 22 

The  March  in  the  Rain 23 

The  Canteens 27 

The  ^'■Billet  de  Logenient"' 31 

At  the  Doctor's 33 

The  Company  Kitchen 34 

TJie  Patrol 35 


lO  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 


En  Reconnoissance 3^ 

Tlie  Scout 3^ 

The  Attack 41 

The  Staff 45 

On  the  Line  of  Caissons 47 

Cap  ajtd  Bugle 48 

TJie  British  Grenadiers 49 

'■'Tommy  Atkins'' 5^ 

Royal  Horse  Artillery  {Initial) 53 

A  Guard-house 55 

A  Measure  of  Discipline 57 

Tent-pegging 63 

A  Perplexing  Order 66 

On  the  Canal -.     .     .     .  ^"j 

''The  Girl  I  left  behind  me'' 71 

"Good-by!" 74 

Reiterlicd 75 

A  Green  Hussar 7S 

Prussian  Mounted  Artillery  {Initial) 79 

Skirmishers  in  Pursuit 81 

Artillery  Outpost— A  Quiet  Game 85 

A  Vidette ^7 

The  Evening  Prayer 9^ 

The  Fire-guard 95 

Morning  in  Bivouac 98 

Moving  to  the  Front 99 


ILLUSTRATIONS.  1 1 


PAGE 


A  '■'■  Pickelhaube'' \qo 

Stable  Call lOi 

Cavalry  Trophy 104 

A  ^^ Redskin'  {Initial)   ....     .     .     . 105 

''Taps''    . 109 

TJie  Camp  Toilet 112 

Packing  Up 1 14 

TJie  Quartermaster   .     .....     ...     ......     .     .     .  115 

TJie  MarcJi  Out 117 

Column  of  Route 1 20 

A  Moment's  Halt 121 

TJie  Ford 125 

Down  by  the  River 127 

The  Herd-guard 129 

The  Wagon-train 131 

'' CincJiing  Up" 134 

Benny  Havens 13c 

A  Cavalryman 138 

The  Ride  through  the  Rain 130 

Infantry-soldier  {Initial) 141 

HurraJi !   the  Wild  Missouri ! 145 

Doivn  the  River 145 

A  Soldier's  Welcome 147 

A  "  IVood-hawk" 140 

The  "Vigilantes" 153 

A  Race  with  the  Boat 157 


12  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

A  Grave  in  the  Wilderness i6i 

Fair  SJiarp-sJwotcrs 162 

The  Sconfs  Report ..     . 165 

A  Hot  Trail 167 

TJie  Captives ....     .     .     .  169 

The '' Blue  Riders''  of  the  Wascetcha     •.-.■. 171 

An  Revoir ! •     .     • 174 

Silence 1 76 


el-Ce. , pour  <9^  uK  jfa/iccuy  o^oct mou-n'r,  u^  y>-aficaij^  doit i/i - i/^r/"  fiour  cl-/&- , po</r 


e&   u/z  yranca/j  doit  mou-rir 


^ 


FRANCE 

WAR    PICTURES   IN   TIME    OF    PEACE 


WAR  PICTURES  IN  TIME  OF  PEACE. 


w^-m=m-2 


T 


HE  last  bars  of  the  cavalry  re- 
veille aroused  me,  and  I  sat  up, 
rubbing  my  eyes  and  gathering 
my  straggling  wits.  Again,  right  under 
my  window,  I  heard  the  music,  and  now 
thoroughly  awakened,  I  sprang  out  of 
bed.  I  was  in  a  room  over  the  stables 
of  a  tax'ern  in  a  small  town  in  Nor- 
mandy, where  I  had  joined  the  troops 
the  night  before,  wath  the  intention  of 
accompanying  them  during  the  autumn 
manoeuvres,  when  the  French  army  takes  the  field,  each  corps 
in  territory  assigned  to  it,  there  to  prepare  the  troops  by  prac- 
tice in  the  details  of  a  campaign  for  the  more  serious  business 
of  real  warfare. 

The  day  was  just  dawning  in  a  wet  gray  sky  as  I  dressed 
myself  and  looked  from  my  window  on  the  court  of  the  tav- 
ern, a  long,  square,  paved  enclosure,  bounded  on  three  sides  by 
irregular  two-storied  buildings  of  brick  and  stone,  while,  on 
the  fourth   side,  a  huge    archway  under  an  ancient  tower  per- 


1 8  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

mitted  a  glimpse  across  a  street  to  an  orchard  beyond.  In 
the  lower  stories  were  the  tap -room,  kitchen,  stables,  etc. ;  the 
sleeping -rooms  were  above,  opening  on  wooden  galleries  wet 
with  the  dripping  of  the  rain  from  the  overhanging  eaves  of 
the  tiled  and  moss-grown  roofs. 

Under  a  shed  in  one  corner  of  the  yard  some  cavalry  soldiers 
— chasseurs-a-cheval — who  had  been  quartered  here  overnight, 
had  already  lighted  a  fire,  and  the  bugler  lounging  near  them, 
his  great -coat  hanging  from  his  shoulders  in  heavy  folds,  his 
bugle  over  his  arm,  and  his  shako  pulled  down  over  his  eyes, 
listlessly  chewed  a  bit  of  straw,  as,  hands  buried  in  the  pockets 
of  his  wide,  leather-bordered  trousers,  he  watched  his  comrades 
in  their  preparations  for  breakfast.  One  or  two  sleepy  soldiers, 
yawning  and  stretching  their  limbs,  the  litter  and  straw  still 
clinging  to  their  hair  and  clothing,  appeared  at  the  doors  of  the 
stables,  or  shambled  off  about  some  early  duty,  dragging  their 
hobnailed  boots  over  the  stones,  oblivious  of  an  occasional  pud- 
dle, while  the  stable  guard  stood  under  the  archway,  in  relief 
against  the  wet  road  and  gray  trees  of  the  orchard,  where  the 
smoke  of  some  other  early  fires  mingled  with  the  mist  of  the 
falling  rain. 

Gradually  the  light  increased,  silvering  the  roof-tops  and 
casting  long  reflections  of  the  old  buildings  in  the  now  bright 
surface  of  the  pavement. 

A  smart  sergeant  clattered  through  the  archway,  and  his 
authoritative  voice  was  immediately  heard,  putting  something 
like  life  into  the  sleepy  soldiers,  and  evidently  reminding  the 
bugler  that  he  had  something  else  to  do  than  to  toast  his  toes 
at  the  fire ;  for,  drawing  his  hands  from  his  pockets  and  drop- 
ping his  bit  of  straw,  he  assumed  a  wide-awake  look,  strode 
across  the  court,  and  disappeared  through  a  door-way. 

The  others  also  showed  some  alacrity,  and  began  leading  out 


A   CORNER   OF   THE    INN-YARD — EARLY    MORNING. 


WAR   PICTURES   IN   TIME   OF    PEACE.  21 

their  horses  and  grooming  them,  hissing  at  their  work  like  so 
many  serpents,  and  pausing  occasionally  to  swallow  a  hot  cup 
of  coffee  which,  with  an  enormous  piece  of  bread,  was  handed 
them  by  a  comrade.  The  door  of  a  bedroom  opposite  mine 
opened,  and  an  officer  in  shirt -sleeves  and  slippers,  and  wiping 
his  hands  on  a  towel,  leaned  over  the  railing  of  the  gallery  and 
called  to  his  servant  for  his  boots. 

The  horses  were  standing  in  long  lines  under  the  sheds, 
saddles  and  equipments  were  being  put  on,  and  sabres  were 
clanking  as  the  soldiers  moved  about,  when  I  descended  to  the 
coffee-room,  which  I  found  already  filled  with  officers  of  the 
staff.  They  were  coming  and  going,  or  sitting  at  the  tables 
drinking  their  coffee  and  smoking  their  morning  cigarettes. 
All  rose  as  the  general,  a  handsome  old  soldier  clad  in  the 
tasteful  fatigue  uniform  of  a  general  of  division,  entered  the 
room,  and  raising  his  gold-laced  fatigue-cap  in  recognition  of 
the  salute,  with  a  hearty  "  Bonjour,  messieurs !"  led  the  way 
through  the  door  to  the  yard,  where  the  horses  were  now  in 
readiness,  the  cavalry  escort  drawn  up  behind,  the  men,  shakos 
strapped  under  their  chins,  great -coats  on,  carbines  slung  over 
their  shoulders,  sitting  motionless  on  their  horses.  The  staff 
mounted,  and,  the  general  at  the  head,  moved  out  through  the 
archway  and  rode  up  the  village  street,  which  was  already  filled 
with  troops  from  end  to  end. 

Six  o'clock  struck  from  the  tower  of  the  old  Norman  church 
when  the  head  of  the  infantry  column,  a  battalion  of  chasseurs- 
a-pied,  the  picked  light-infantry  of  the  French  army,  crossed 
the  market-place,  their  bugles  sounding  a  march.  They  moved 
with  astonishing  rapidity,  with  the  quick,  short  step  peculiar  to 
this  corps,  and  were  followed  close  on  their  heels  by  column 
after  column  of  troops  of  the  line  in  heavy  marching  order,  and 
in  their  ungraceful  fatigue   uniform.     The  long  skirts  of  their 

2* 


22 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND  DRAGOONS. 


great -coats  were  folded  back  from  their  legs,  clad  in  the  regu- 
lation scarlet  trousers  and  leather  gaiters.  Their  knapsacks, 
some  with  short -handled  pick  and  shovel,  others  with  cooking 
utensils  blackened  by  recent  contact  with  fire,  others  again  with 
huge  loaves  of  bread  fastened  to  them, 
were  strapped  tightly  on  their  backs, 
their  canvas  haversacks,  filled  with 
the  day's  rations,  swung  at  their 
sides,  and  their  rifles  hung  loose- 
ly over  their  shoulders.  It 
was  heavy  marching  order, 
indeed,  the  bao^oraore  of  the 


■n 


ftr0¥ 


French  infantryman  weighing  twenty-eight  kilogrammes  (about 
fifty -six  pounds  English),  exclusive  of  their  ammunition,  of 
which  each  man  carries  ninety  cartridges. 

The  rain  was  falling  in  torrents  as  we  passed  out  of  the  town 
and  struck  the  "  Route  de  Paris  " — the  broad  national  highway 
running  from  the  coast  towns  to  the  capital — and  the  order  to 
march  at  ease  was  passed  down  the  column.     The  ranks  opened 


THE   MARCH    IN    THE    RAIN. 


WAR   PICTURES    IN   TIME   OF   PEACE.  25 

out  a  little,  rifles  were  shifted,  pipes  lighted,  and  breaking  into 
a  song,  the  troop?  tramped  gayly  forward  through  the  mud  and 
mire,  to  the  admiration  and  astonishment  of  the  inmates  of  the 
occasional  farm-houses  we  passed.  At  one  farm  a  number  of 
youngsters  had  rushed  out  of  the  houses  and  stood  by  the  road- 
side, gazing  with  wide -opened  eyes  at  the  unusual  sight.  All 
had  a  slice  of  bread  and  a  bowl  of  soup  in  either  hand,  which 
they  steadily  continued  to  dispose  of,  stopping  now  and  then 
only  long  enough  to  grin  at  the  chaff  of  the  soldiers.  The 
women  looked  on  admiringly,  and  one  vivacious  lady  wondered 
loudly  why  there  was  no  music,  while  one  of  the  farm-hands, 
in  his  quality  of  old  soldier,  explained  that,  "  en  campagne," 
troops  dispense  with  much  of  the  fuss  and  feathers  of  the 
"  piping  times  of  peace." 

Some  of  my  friends  among  the  ofificers  described  the  plan 
of  the  manoeuvres  to  me  as  we  marched  along.  The  enemy, 
represented  by  a  body  of  troops  about  equal  in  number  to 
our  own,  were  supposed  to  have  landed  on  the  coast,  and  to 
be  threatening  two  important  commercial  and  manufacturing 
towns  of  France.  Our  objective  point  was  Yvetot,  on  the  line 
of  the  railway  between  Havre  and  Rouen,  and  we  expected  to 
meet  them  near  there,  their  headquarters  being  that  day  prob- 
ably at  a  place  called  Bolbec,  situated  a  few  kilometres  from 
the  town  we  were  then  raarchinsf  on. 

We  had  been  on  the  road  for  four  or  five  hours  when  sud- 
denly we  heard  a  shot,  followed  immediately  by  several  others, 
directly  in  our  front,  and  the  column  came  to  a  halt.  We  saw 
some  movement  up  the  road,  where  it  disappeared  over  the  top 
of  a  hill,  commands  were  heard,  and  the  troops  began  to  move 
off  to  the  right  and  left,  and  form  in  column  of  battalions  in  the 
fields.  The  foremost  regiments  threw  out  squads  of  skirmish- 
ers, the  men  moving  at  a  run  up  the  rising  ground  in  our  front. 


26  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

A  red  and  white  guidon,  fluttering  among  a  group  of  horsemen 
on  the  highest  point  of  the  ascent,  indicated  the  position  of  the 
staff,  and  towards  it  I  hurried  to  .ascertain  what  was  going  on, 
arriving  in  time  to  see  a  reconnoitring  party  of  the  enemy's 
cavalry  disappearing  in  a  line  of  woods  in  the  valley  below, 
pursued  by  a  troop  of  our  own.  They  wore  white  linen  covers 
over  their  shakos  to  distinguish  them  from  our  men,  and  as- 
their  line  vanished  into  the  shadow  of  the  trees,  I  could  see 
them  turning  to  give  a  parting  shot  or  two.  Our  troopers 
soon  returned,  reporting  no  large  body  of  the  enemy  in  sight, 
and  as  the  hour  of  noon  had  approached,  orders  were  given  to 
halt  where  we  were. 

The  skirmishers  rejoined  their  regiments,  arms  were  stacked, 
ranks  were  broken,  and  preparations  were  made  for  the  noon- 
day meal.  Wherever  the  least  shelter  from  the  rain  could  be 
found,  the  men  began  to  build  their  fires  to  make  their  coffee 
and  heat  their  soup  —  hard  work  at  first,  for  the  ground  was 
damp  and  the  rain  falling  heavily ;  but  as  one  succeeded,  others 
borrowed  the  embers,  and  soon  a  hundred  little  fires  were  burn- 
ing all  over  the  fields,  the  smoke  curling  through  the  wet  grass, 
and  half  hiding  the  groups  of  busy  soldiers.  The  regimental 
canteens,  huge,  solidly  built  wagons,  drawn  by  two  and  some- 
times four  horses,  and  presided  over  by  the  cantiniere,  or  female 
sutler,  of  the  regiment,  came  up  from  the  rear,  and  were  soon 
surrounded  by  chaffing,  pushing  throngs  of  soldiers. 

Alas  for  the  picturesque  vivandiere  of  by -gone  times,  the 
traditional  "  daughter  of  the  regiment !"  Where  is  she  now  ? 
Can  this  fat  old  woman,  her  white  cap  fastened  on  her  head 
by  an  old  red  shawl  passing  under  her  chin,  and  a  much -worn 
private's  overcoat  thrown  over  her  shoulders,  striving  with  scold- 
ins  voice  and  authoritative  s^estures  to  maintain  a  little  order 
among  her  thirsty  customers,  as  she  stands  behind  the  tail-board 


WAR   PICTURES    IN   TIME   OF    PEACE. 


27 


of  her  wao[on  —  can  she  be 
the  descendant  of  the  lace- 
coated,  scarlet -trousered  He- 
bes  we  have  read  of  in  novels 
and  applauded  at  the  Opera  ? 
Be  that  as  it  may,  I  doubt 
whether  the  prettiest  vivan- 
diere  that  ever  existed  —  if 
she  ever  did  exist,  and  is  not 


THE   CANTEENS. 


28  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

wholly  a  creature  of  romance  —  could  have  been  more  popular, 
or  have  administered  more  fully  to  the  comfort  of  her  com- 
rades, than  did  this  obese  old  creature.  Many  of  her  calling 
have  done  noble  deeds,  and  more  than  one  has  been  decorated 
with  the  "  Legion  of  Honor."  I  know  of  one,  poor  thing !  who 
proudly  wore  her  cross,  and  eked  out  a  living  by  selling  cata- 
logues at  a  panorama  in  the  Rue  St.  Honore  at  Paris. 

Having  succeeded,  thanks  to  the  attention  of  the  cantiniere, 
in  procuring  my  luncheon,  I  proceeded  to  discuss  it  under  the 
hospitable  shelter  of  a  thick  hedge,  where  a  friend,  the  sur- 
geon of  one  of  the  infantry  regiments,  joined  me.  The  rain 
presently  ceased  falling,  and  an  occasional  ray  of  sunshine  broke 
through  the  clouds.  The  men,  most  of  them  having  finished 
their  meal,  were  scattered  about  the  fields,  some  of  them  drying 
their  wet  clothing  at  the  fires,  or  lounging  wherever  they  could 
find  a  comparatively  dry  spot  to  rest  in ;  the  oiificers  were  smok- 
ing and  chatting  together,  and  the  musicians  were  assembling 
preparatory  to  giving  us  some  music.  An  occasional  aide-de- 
camp or  orderly  rode  by,  and  now  and  then  we  heard  a  bugle 
signal,  as  some  non-commissioned  of^cer  was  summoned  or  a 
detail  of  service  was  to  be  attended  to. 

All  at  once  there  was  a  great  commotion  among  the  soldiers 
over  in  the  fields  on  the  other  side  of  the  road — men  were  run- 
ning together  from  all  points,  shouting  and  laughing.  We  saw 
them  kickingr  at  somethinor  on  the  2:round,  and  from  our  side  a 
shout  of  "  Un  lievre !  un  lievre !"  went  up,  as  a  poor  hunted  hare 
broke  out  from  among  them  and  rushed  across  the  road,  fol- 
lowed by  the  whole  shouting,  falling,  kicking  crowd.  The  poor 
creature  ran  close  by  us,  and  neither  the  doctor  nor  I  had  the 
heart  to  attempt  to  stop  it ;  but  its  pursuers  were  too  many  for 
it,  and  finally  it  fell  a  victim  to  the  sword  of  a  burly  sergeant. 
A  garde  chasse,  game -keeper,  who   had   vainly   endeavored   to 


WAR   PICTURES    IN   TIME   OF   PEACE.  29 

stop  this  unceremonious  poaching  on  his  master's  preserves, 
loudly  protested,  but  to  no  apparent  purpose,  as  the  sergeant 
sheathed  his  sabre  (not  made  more  glorious  by  the  butcher  s  use 
it  had  been  put  to),  and  calmly  walked  off  with  his  prize.  One 
mess  of  "  non-coms "  had  the  addition  of  a  succulent  dish  of 
roast  hare  to  their  supper  that  night,  and  that  was  all  there 
was  about  it. 

Meanwhile  the  band  had  assembled,  and  the  gay  strains  of 
a  quadrille  from  one  of  Offenbach's  operas  filled  the  air.  Sets 
were  quickly  formed,  and  in  spite  of  the  fatiguing  march  of  the 
morning  and  the  mud  and  wet,  the  soldiers  all  over  the  fields 
were  dancing  and  kicking  about,  gay,  good-humored,  and  frolick- 
ing, dancing  with  a  vim  and  enjoyment  such  as  only  Frenchmen 
can  exhibit.  An  hour  passed  amid  such  scenes,  when  the  bugles 
sounded.  The  men  instantly  fell  in  behind  the  stacks,  knap- 
sacks were  slung,  the  piles  of  arms  broken,  and  immediately  the 
utmost  order  and  quiet  reigned,  where  less  than  a  minute  before 
everything  had  been  confusion.  The  column  moved  into  the 
road,  and  we  were  again  tramping  through  the  mire  towards 
Yvetot.  An  hour  or  two  of  marching  brought  us  to  a  little 
village,  a  suburb  of  the  town,  where  the  advance  of  the  infantry 
which  I  had  been  accompanying  halted,  and  I  took  leave  of 
them,  pushing  forward  alone  in  search  of  quarters  for  the  night. 
The  way  led  through  a  long,  ugly  street,  bordered  with  unsight- 
ly trees  and  small  detached  houses.  I  passed  an  occasional 
cavalryman  sitting  on  his  horse  at  a  street  corner  —  for  our 
cavalry,  moving  ahead  of  us,  had  already  occupied  the  town — 
and  in  a  few  minutes  reached  the  door  of  a  comfortable  hotel, 
where  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  room. 

It  was  not  long,  however,  before  the  main  body  of  the  troops 
followed,  and  the  air  was  full  of  the  music  of  their  bands  as 
regiment  after  regiment  arrived  and  was  dismissed.     The  troops 


30  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

were  billeted  on  the  inhabitants,  and  the  streets  were  crowded 
with  soldiers  in  groups  of  two  or  three  together,  their  paper 
billets  in  their  hands,  seeking  their  quarters,  which  were  easily- 
found,  as  the  quartermasters  had  been  in  the  town  in  advance, 
and  on  every  door-post  were  chalked  the  numbers  of  the  com- 
pany and  regiment,  and  of  the  men  who  were  to  be  quartered 
in  the  house.  This  is  considered  by  no  means  a  hardship  by 
the  French  people,  and  the  soldiers  were  hospitably  received. 
Military  and  civil  life  in  France  are  closely  allied,  and  nearly 
every  one  has  some  relative,  a  son,  a  brother,  a  husband,  in 
the  army;  for,  as  is  generally  known,  service  for  a  time  in  the 
land  or  naval  forces  of  France  is  compulsory  to  every  citizen, 
no  matter  what  his  position  in  civil  life  may  be,  and  so  all 
realize  that  at  some  time  their  loved  ones  will  be  cared  for  in 
the  same  manner  in  some  other  part  of  the  land ;  therefore, 
as  a  rule,  they  give  what  they  can,  cheerfully  and  even  gladly, 
making  of  the  arrival  of  their  soldier  guests  in  their  midst  a 
sort  of  little  fete.  Place  is  made  for  them  everywhere,  carts 
and  horses  are  unceremoniously  put  aside  to  accommodate  the 
cavalry  and  artillery,  and  usually  peaceful  stable  and  barn  yards 
are  speedily  converted  into  impromptu  barrack  grounds. 

The  infantry  had  nearly  all  arrived,  when  the  rumbling  of 
heavy  wheels,  the  clatter  of  iron  hoofs  on  the  paved  streets,  and 
the  cracking  of  whips  announced  the  approach  of  the  artillery. 
Twenty -four  pieces,  with  a  like  number  of  caissons,  and  the 
necessary  wagons  and  forges  for  four  batteries,  the  horses  and 
guns  covered  with  mud,  the  men  tired  and  wet,  wheeled  up  the 
street  in  front  of  the  hotel,  and  went  into  park  on  the  market- 
place. 

Here  all  was  life  and  commotion.  The  guard  had  been  told 
off,  and  occupied  the  Tow^n-hall;  the  men  for  this  duty  were 
already  lying  on  the  benches  under  the  arches  of  the  building, 


THE   "  BILLET  DE   LOGEMEXT." 


WAR   PICTURES    IN  TIME   OF   PEACE. 


33 


while  the  sentry  stood  outside  in  front  of  the  row  of  stacks,  up 
to  his  ankles  in  a  heap  of  straw  to  keep  his  feet  out  of  the  mud. 
At  one  end  of  the  house  the  surgeons'  offices  and  ambulances 
were  established.  The  wagons  were  backed  up  against  the 
walls,  and  the   ambulance -tenders,  hospital  stewards,  etc.,  were 


^54i, 


AT   THE   DOCTOR  S. 


moving  about  on  various  errands.  Through  the  open  door-way 
I  could  see  the  doctor,  with  his  assistants,  examining  the  inva- 
lids, there  being  naturally  a  few  cases  of  sickness  among  such  a 
large  number  of  men.  There  were  not  many,  however,  and  the 
cases  seemed  to  be  light  ones,  for  the  doctor  soon  left,  and  a 
younger  surgeon  remained  in  charge.  Under  the  market  sheds 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  place  the  rations  of  fresh  meat  were 
being  distributed,  the  details  taking  it  away  in  huge  canvas 
bags,  preparatory  to  converting  it  into  soup. 

In  the  court-yards  and  gardens  numerous  fires  were  burning 
3 


34 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 


brightly,  men  of  the  infantry  were  cleaning  their  arms  and 
accoutrements,  cavalry  and  artillerymen  in  linen  jackets  and 
overalls  were  taking  the  mud  off  their  harness  and  horses. 
Forage  for  the  latter  was  being  dealt  out 
from  the  waggons,  the  men  staoffjerino:  off 
towards  the  temporary  stables  with  enor- 
mous bundles  of  hay  or  sacks  of  oats  on 
their  heads.  Towns -people  and  peasants 
from  the  surrounding  country  were  mingled 
with  the  troops,  and  a  brisk  trade  in  butter, 
eggs,  poultry,  and  like  delicacies 
was  rapidly  developed. 

As  I  left  the  market-place  and 
crossed    the    main    street    on    my 
way  to  the  railway -station, 
a  company  of  troops  under 
arms    passed    by.      It    was 
the    detail    for    the    grand 
guard  and  for  the  pickets, 
for  now  we  were  near  the 
enemy,    and    the    same 
It.     precautions  were   taken 
as     in     actual     warfare. 
Poor  fellows !  they  did 
not  look  particularly 
cheerful  at  the   pros- 
pect of  spending  the 
night     in     the     open 
country,  while    their    comrades   had  such   a   comfortable   billet 
as  Yvetot. 

At  the  railway -station  the  commissariat  (forming  a  special 
corps    in  the   French  service,  having  its  own  officers  and  per- 


THE   COMPANY 
KITCHEN. 


WAR    PICTURES    IN    TIME   OF    PEACE. 


35 


soiiuel)  had  established  its 
headquarters.       Here    the 
bakeries  were  in  full  oper- 
ation.   The  bread  is  baked 
in   cylindrical   iron    ovens, 
mounted  on  four-wheeled 
carriages,     which      accom- 
pany the  troops  wherever 
they  go.     The  flour  in  this 
case  had  been  brought  to 
them  by   the   railway,  and 
the  bakers  were  kneadine 
the     dough     under    some 
tents    that   had   been   pitched 
by  the  side  of  the  track.     A 
number  of  cattle  were  herded 
near,  under  the   charge   of  some 
soldiers    of    the    subsistence    de- 
partment,  and    some    had    been 
slaughtered    but    a    short    time 
ago,  the  meat  from  which  I  had 
just  seen  distributed. 
THE  PATROL.  T\\Q  suu  was  scttins:  as  I  re- 

turned  to  my  hotel,  and  its  rays, 
striking  behind  the  trees  up  against  the  evening  sky,  cast  long 
shadows  on  the  oHstenins:  wet  streets,  and  bathed  the  rows  of 
houses  in  a  strong  flood  of  light.  Relieving  dark  against  their 
white  walls  were  lines  of  troops,  their  forms  reflected  in  the 
wet  mud,  standing  silently  and  almost  motionless,  save  for  the 
quick  movements  of  the  manual  of  arms  as  their  ofificers  passed 
along  their  lines  inspecting  their  pieces  and  accoutrements. 
The   roll  was   called,  the   ranks  were   broken,  and  the  labor  of 


36  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND   DRAGOONS. 

the    soldiers,  excepting  those   detailed  for   special    duties,  was 
over  for  the  clay. 

Then,  as  the  evening  advanced,  the  cafes  filled,  the  click  of 
billiard  balls  or  the  rattle  of  dominoes  on  the  wooden  tables, 
an  occasional  song  or  shout  of  laughter,  were  heard.  Some  of 
the  soldiers  were  to  be  seen  at  the  doors  of  their  billets  playing 
with  the  children,  chatting  with  Madame,  or  smoking  an  even- 
ing pipe  with  Monsieur.  There  was  no  tattoo  that  night,  for 
it  is  against  regulations  to  make  more  noise  than  absolutely 
necessary  when  near  the   enemy.     The  patrol  goes  round,  the 


■''■'''^''''   .ryi^i.-vt/i.!' 


last  party  of  merrymakers  is  turned  out  of  the  cafes,  and  by 
half-past  nine  the  tired  soldiers,  from  the  general  down  to  the 
lowest  teamster,  are  all  in  their  quarters. 

Several  days  passed.  We  had  frequent  encounters  with 
the  enemy,  and  many  interesting  events  took  place.  The  day 
after  our  arrival  at  Yvetot  was  one  of  comparative  quiet,  and 
was  passed  by  both  parties  in  tactical  formations  and  recon- 
noissances.  On  the  following  morning  we  attacked  our  oppo- 
nents, but  were  repulsed,  falling  back  upon  Yvetot,  and  occupy- 


WAR   PICTURES    IN    TIME  OF   PEACE.  37 

ing  a  strong  position  on  the  line  of  hills  in  front  of  that  town, 
where  we  in  turn  were  attacked.  This  time,  however,  we  had 
the  pleasure  of  not  only  repulsing  our  antagonists,  but  of  pursu- 
ing them,  and  taking  possession  of  their  lines  of  the  day  before, 
they  retreating  across  the  railway,  and  making  a  retrograde 
movement  towards  the  north  of  their  former  position.  Here 
we  again  took  the  offensive,  and  again  they  retreated,  but 
checked  us  once  more  a  day  or  two  afterwards. 

As  I  had  not  been  able  to  find  accommodations  in  the  little 
hamlets  occupied  by  my  friends,  I  took  leave  of  them  for  the 
nonce  one  evening,  and  took  up  my  quarters  in  a  more  impor- 
tant town  within  the  lines  of  the  opposing  forces,  where  I  passed 
the  night.  Bright  and  early  the  next  morning  I  was  up  and 
ready  for  my  modest  share  of  the  day's  work.  Although  it  was 
but  a  few  minutes  after  five  o'clock  when  I  passed  into  the 
village  street,  not  a  soldier  was  to  be  seen,  nor  was  there  the 
slightest  indication  that,  when  I  went  to  bed  the  night  before, 
there  had  been  three  or  four  thousand  infantry  and  half  a  regi- 
ment of  artillery  in  the  town.  One  early  riser,  a  peasant,  of 
whom  I  inquired,  informed  me  that  the  troops  had  left  before 
sunrise,  almost  without  a  sound,  and  had  gone  up  the  highway 
back  of  the  town,  where,  after  a  few  minutes'  walk,  and  with 
the  aid  of  my  glass,  I  discovered  their  line,  their  force  greatly 
strengthened  by  the  arrival  of  numerous  other  detachments 
from  the  adjacent  villages,  extended  for  some  distance  on  some 
hills  that  ran  nearly  due  east  and  west  of  the  road.  They 
were  strongly  posted,  their  infantry  occupying  two  villages  and 
all  the  outlying  farms,  and  their  artillery  massed  on  their  right 
and  left.  With  my  glass  I  could  distinctly  make  out  their 
guns  in  battery  and  the  white  shakos  of  their  advanced  cavalry 
pickets. 

Knowing  my  friends  would  soon  be  on  the  move,  I  walked 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 


back  through  the 
village    to     meet 
them.     The  high- 
way    ran     almost     directly 
north  and  south,  and  from 
the   southern   edge    of    the 
town     I    could    see     for    a  the  scout. 

lonor    distance    ris^ht    down 

the  straight,  white  road,  until  it  disappeared  in  some  woods. 
Not  a  soul  was  in  sight,  and  no  one  would  have  thought  that 
behind  the  woods  in  front  of  me  were  several  thousand  troops 
of  all  arms,  who  I  knew  must  be  already  on  the  move.  I 
had  not  long  to  wait,  for  as  I  scanned  the  edge  of  the  forest  I 
soon  saw  one  or  two  dark  objects,  which  I  made  out  to  be 
liorsemen,  movino^  out  of  the  shadow  of  the  trees  into  the 
fields,  while  simultaneously  a  group  of  a  dozen  or  more  ap- 
peared on  the  highway.  They  moved  slowly  forward  a  little 
way,  and   then   halted.      One   or   two   trotted   off  to  little   emi- 


WAR    PICTURES    IN   TIME   OF    PEACE. 


39 


nences,  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  then  returned  to  the  squad 
still  standing  in  the  road.  Then  one  horseman  detached  him- 
self from  the  group  and  came  galloping  towards  me,  while  the 
others  moved  slowly  along  at  a  walk,  those  whom  I  had  seen 
emerging  from  the  woods  into  the  fields,  and  whose  line  had 
since  been  lengthened  by  the  arrival  of  others,  keeping  pace 
with  them. 

I  watched  the  rider  as  he  came  up  the  road,  his  half-Arab 
horse  moving  with  easy  strides,  mane  waving  and  long  tail 
streaming  behind.  As  they  approached,  the  gallop  subsided 
into  a  trot,  and  the  man,  rising  in  his  stirrups,  peered  over  the 
hedo;es  into  the  yards  and  orchards  on  either  side  of  him, 
and  I  knew  him  for  one  of  the  soldiers  of  a  troop  of  chas- 
seurs-a- cheval,  to  the  officers  of  which  I  was  indebted  for 
much  kind  attention  and  hospitality.  The  man  recognized  me 
too,  and  with  a  smile,  raising  his  hand  to  his  hat,  inquired 
whether  the  enemy  was  in  the  town.  "  There  was  not  one  of 
them  there  half  an  hour  ago,"  I  replied,  "  but  it  seems  to  me 
I  see  something  white  among  the  trees  of  the  orchard  over 
yonder,"  and  I  pointed  to  a  group  of  apple-trees  about  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  away,  where,  even  as  I  spoke,  a  small  body  of 
the  eneniy's  cavalry  trotted  out  from  behind  a  little  farm-house. 
The  soldier  wheeled  his  horse,  and  giving  it  the  spurs,  dashed 
off  to  regain  his  comrades,  who  had  exidently  also  perceived 
the  enemy's  scouts,  for  they  again  halted,  and  one  of  them  gal- 
loped back  towards  some  squads  of  infantry  that  had  also  de- 
bouched from  the  woods.  These  latter  formed  a  line  of  skir- 
mishers on  the  run,  and  advanced  across  the  fields  until  within 
range  of  the  hostile  troopers,  who,  not  waiting  to  receive  their 
fire,  turned  their  horses  and  slowly  disappeared  behind  the 
town. 

Again  the  chasseurs  advanced,  at  first  cautiously  and  then 


40  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

more  boldly,  until  they  reached  the  first  houses,  where  the 
young  lieutenant  in  command  halted  his  troop,  and  sent  half  a 
dozen  of  his  men  scurrying  around  the  edges  of  the  town  on 
both  sides.  They  returned  in  a  minute  or  two,  reporting  the 
place  evidently  unoccupied  and  the  w^ay  clear.  Meanwhile 
w^e  heard  desultory  firing  over  on  our  right  and  beyond  our 
position,  so  pushed  up  the  main  street  and  out  on  the  road  to 
the  point  where  I  had  first  seen  the  enemy's  line.  My  friends 
the  chasseurs  had  not  arrived  a  moment  too  soon,  for  not  a 
hundred  yards  from  us,  crossing  a  wide  field  of  turnips,  we  saw- 
a  number  of  the  enemy's  infantry  advancing  as  skirmishers,  with 
the  evident  intention  of  occupying  a  row  of  hedges  and  earthen 
walls  which  skirted  the  road,  and  from  there  delay  the  progress 
of  our  troops  through  the  town.  Our  infantry,  however,  were 
right  on  our  heels,  and  quickly  seizing  the  hedges,  at  once 
opened  fire.  The  enemy  replied  sharply,  but  fell  back  towards 
their  main  line,  taking  a  position  about  half-way  between  it  and 
us,  and  in  front  of  a  large  farm  surrounded  by  high  walls  and 
deep  ditches. 

The  firing  on  our  right  had  gradually  increased,  and  devel- 
oped into  a  sharp  skirmish  fire.  We  could  see  the  enemy's  first 
line  of  skirmishers  slowly  falling  back,  kneeling  to  load  and 
deliver  their  fire,  and  then  retreating  a  short  distance  to  repeat 
the  same  manoeuvre  again.  As  the  houses  masked  the  view 
of  the  approach  of  our  troops,  I  bade  au  rcvoir  to  the  lieutenant, 
and  made  my  way  towards  our  right  by  a  road  that  ran  along 
the  edge  of  the  grounds  of  a  fine  old  chateau,  the  inmates  of 
which,  ladies,  children,  and  all,  were  perched  on  the  walls  of  the 
garden  enjoying  the  novel  sight. 

F"rom  a  hill  near  by  I  had  a  full  view^  of  the  field  of  battle. 
To  my  rear,  and  almost  at  my  feet,  lay  the  town,  with  the  high- 
way stretching  back  southward  into  the   country,  while  to   my 


THE    ATTACK. 


WAR    PICTURES    IN    TIME   OF    PEACE.  43 

right  were  open  fields,  crossed  here  and  there  by  roads,  and 
dotted  with  clumps  of  trees  and  detached  farms.  In  front,  and 
a  little  to  my  left,  were  the  lines  of  the  enemy  and  the  large 
farm  just  mentioned,  and  which.  I  could  now  see,  was  filled 
with  troops,  lining  the  walls  inside  and  lying  in  the  ditches. 
Wherever  there  was  a  gate  or  an  opening  they  had  thrown  up 
breastworks  or  constructed  rifle-pits  to  protect  themselves,  and 
I  could  see  the  white  caps  shining  in  the  sunlight  as  the 
owners  peered  over  the  little  mounds  of  fresh  earth. 

The  plain  on  my  right  was  covered  by  our  troops,  infantry 
and  artillery,  all  advancing  by  different  roads,  and  beginning 
to  extend  their  lines  across  the  fields.  I  saw  our  skirmishers 
moving  forward  rapidly,  and  already  up  to  the  hill  on  which  I 
stood,  and  which  was  also  occupied  by  the  staff. 

As  the  masses  of  infantrv  bes^an  to  show  themselves  from 
behind  the  houses  of  the  town,  a  heavy,  distant  boom,  followed 
quickly  by  another  and  another,  showed  that  they  had  been 
perceived  by  the  enemy,  as  his  artillery  opened  on  them.  But 
our  men  were  not  long  in  replying,  and  the  earth  shook  as  three 
six-gun  batteries  came  rushing  up  the  hill.  The  drivers  crack- 
ing their  whips  as  they  leaned  forward,  urging  on  their  powerful 
horses,  straining  and  pulling  as  the  heavy  wheels  sank  in  the 
soft  earth,  the  officers  waving  their  sabres  and  shouting  their 
commands,  buo^les  soundinij,  the  scarlet  guidons  flvinfj  in  the 
midst  of  the  clouds  of  dust,  the  glints  of  light  on  the  shining 
tires  of  the  wheels,  the  rush  of  air  as  these,  the  most  terrible 
engines  of  modern  warfare,  went  tearing  past  me,  presented  a 
most  stirring  and  exciting  episode.  They  reached  the  top  of 
the  hill,  unlimbered,  and  went  into  battery,  and  quick  as  thought, 
almost  before  the  oruns  touched  the  2:i'0und,  the  thunder  of  their 
answer  burst  forth.  Through  the  thick,  steam -like  powder- 
smoke   that   now   enveloped   the   whole    mass    I   could   see   the 


44  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND   DRAGOONS. 

figures  of  the  cannoneers  working  like  shadowy  demons,  and 
now  and  then  the  silhouette  of  a  gun  as  it  was  run  forward 
after  the  recoil,  to  again  burst  out  in  angry  fire,  blazing  like 
lightning  in  the  sulphurous  vapor. 

Our  skirmishers  crossed  the  road  and  directed  their  fire  on 
the  defenders  of  the  farm.  At  first  these  replied  slowly,  but 
the  supporting  lines  of  our  troops  coming  up,  a  continuous  dis- 
charge of  small -arms  was  opened  on  them,  and  the  walls  and 
ditches,  the  rifle-pits,  seemed  to  be  ablaze.  Heavier  and  heavier 
grew  the  fire  from  our  side  as  line  after  line  moved  forward, 
increasing  the  number  of  the  attacking  force  until  the  fields  in 
front  of  the  farm  were  alive  with  men.  Kneeling  to  fire,  and 
taking  advantage  of  every  little  break  in  the  ground,  every  heap 
of  earth,  every  tree  and  bush,  they  had  finally  pushed  up  close 
to  the  farm,  when  their  bugles  sounded  a  charge,  and  rushing 
forward  with  a  shout,  they  swarmed  over  the  ditches  and  walls 
and  crowded  into  the  enclosure,  the  enemy's  soldiers  as  rapidly 
retreating,  but  keeping  up  a  sharp  fire  as  they  pursued  their 
way  towards  their  main  line. 

Here,  so  far,  all  had  been  quiet,  save  from  the  batteries  on 
their  left,  and  only  the  white  caps  of  their  strong  skirmish  line, 
dotting  the  rising^  [jround  in  front  of  the  villas^es,  were  to  be 
seen,  their  main  body  being  hid  by  the  houses  and  trees. 

At  this  moment  the  artillery  over  on  their  right  opened  fire, 
as  our  left  winGf,  that  had  been  forming;  under  cover  of  the 
town,  showed  itself  on  the  plain.  Sharp  skirmishing  followed, 
increasing  in  volume  as  it  rolled  towards  our  right,  blazing  out 
from  the  farm  just  taken,  and  flashing  all  along  the  enemy's 
line,  as  our  whole  force  began  to  advance,  preceded  by  lines 
of  skirmishers  and  bristling  with  a  fringe  of  spouting  flame 
and  smoke.  The  roar  of  musketry  became  deafening,  and  the 
fire  of  the  enemy  grew  hotter  and  hotter,  as  the  masses  of  the 


THE  STAFF. 


WAR    PICTURES    IX   TIME    OF    PEACE. 


47 


attacking  forces  poured  in  volley  after  volley  in  heavy  crashes, 
until  the  dense  clouds  of  smoke  curled  up  among  the  distant 
trees  and  almost  hid  the  landscape  from  view.  It  was  a  grand 
siorht,  and  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment  one  forgot  that  the 
stirring  spectacle  was  but  an  imitation  of  the  terrible  realities 
of  \v3.r. 

It  was  now  nearly  noon,  and  as  the  opposing  lines  ap- 
proached one  another,  the  old  general  turned  towards  his  aides, 
and  in  another  moment  half  a  dozen  of  them  were  flying  down 
the  hill  at  the  top  of  their  horses'  speed,  and  disappeared  in  the 
smoke  in  the  fields  below.  Simultaneously  a  hundred  bugles 
sounded  the  order  to  cease  firing,  and  the  din  subsided  as  if 
by  magic. 

There  was  a  short  pause.  Slowly  the  smoke  lifted  and 
cleared  away,  the  music  of  a  dozen  bands  mingled  in  melodious 
confusion,  the  soldiers  gave  cheer  after  cheer  as  the  columns 
of  friend  and  foe  moved  off  the  field,  and  the  "  Grand  Manoeu- 
vres "  were  over. 


,   .  v^ -^t^v  jfHH_-.-j^^>^^m^^. 


^!^^'-'  tv^X^mw 


talk  of  Al-€x.-aii-cicr  i   And 
Hex  -  tot'  2ii(L  L.\'>^an-ckr  i    J\nd 


ig  ^^     ^oitie    o|"    Her*-  cu  <>•  les  -Butc^jllthdworldLs  Lmud 
J"uch    ferecct  names  «3s  theft* 


heroes  »  Th^r^s   Hove  thttt  Cdn.    co\tv 


^  pare      w>f\  xt.     tflui   row  row  row 


,>-(^ 


-=U^^-^i^^ 


;^ 


rem  Pow       To.  ■QiC  Brit.'iJH    Ore  -ita.  "  --T* 


4Ur< 


GREAT   BRITAIN 

A    HOME    OF    TOMMY    ATKINS 


-  -^ 


A  HOME  OF  TOMMY  ATKINS. 


i3 


A 


LDERSHOT'"   and 

the    porter    throw ^ 

open  the  door  of 
our  compartment  as  the 
train  comes  to  a  stop,  and 
I  find    myself  standing  on 

the  station  platform  among  a  crowd  of  fellow-travellers,  pa- 
tiently awaiting  my  turn  to  pass  the  ticket- taker,  as  we  move 
slowly  out  to  the  street  and  the  waiting  line  of  cabs  beyond 
the  palings.  The  moment  one  alights  one  notices  the  mili- 
tary character  of  the  place,  so  different  from  the  many  stations 


54  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOOxNS. 

we  have  passed  on  our  short  run  down  from  London,  and  in- 
stead of  the  usual  sober  bustle  of  the  average  English  railway- 
station,  with  its  little  knot  of  arriving  and  departing  passen- 
gers, a  score  of  scarlet  coats  with  bright  buttons,  perhaps  the 
white  fatigue -jacket  and  swinging  kilts  of  a  barekneed  High- 
lander or  two,  or  the  yellow  braided  and  befrogged  uniform  of 
a  horse -artilleryman,  furnish  a  bright  contrast  to  the  brown 
corduroys  of  the  railway  officials  and  the  quiet  costumes  of  the 
few  civilians  in  the  little  crowd.  Confiding  myself  and  my 
luggage  to  the  tender  care  of  a  hansom  cabman,  the  "double" 
of  his  metropolitan  cousin,  I  am  rapidly  whirled  along  through 
a  maze  of  rather  shabby  streets,  lined  with  shops  and  small 
dwelling-houses,  until,  skirting  the  green  lawns  in  front  of  the 
Royal  Artillery  barracks,  we  turn  sharply  up  a  hill  and  on  to  a 
broad,  dusty,  white  road  leading  past  the  cantonments. 

It  is  a  bright,  sunny  morning,  one  of  those  rare  English 
summer  days,  peaceful  and  calm,  the  blue  sky  broken  with 
fleecy,  drifting  clouds  casting  their  shadows  on  the  purple, 
heather- covered  hills  and  tawny,  sandy  valleys,  and,  by  the  ever- 
changing  masses  of  light  and  shade,  lending  even  to  the  mo- 
notonous rows  of  brown  huts  and  yellow  brick  barracks  of 
Aldershot  Camp  something  of  color  and  of  the  picturesque. 
There  is  little  stirring  in  the  straight  side- streets  running  at 
rieht  angles  with  our  road,  and  lined  with  their  rows  of  huts, 
intersecting  each  other  with  the  regularity  of  the  squares  on  a 
checker-board,  as  it  is  the  hour  of  drill,  and  the  troops  are  out 
on  the  parades  or  off  at  musketry  drill,  and  we  can  hear  now 
and  then  the  far-off  reports  of  their  rifles  or  the  distant  blare 
of  a  bugle,  while  behind  the  white  tents,  gleaming  brightly  in 
the  sunlight  away  over  under  Peak  Hill,  where  some  troops  are 
lying  under  canvas,  the  cloud  of  dust  rising  from  the  "  Dust 
Hole  "  betokens  the  presence  there  of  the  artillerymen  at  their 


A   HOME   OF  TOMMY   ATKINS. 


55 


A  GUARD-HOUSE. 


morning  exercises.  We  pass  a  guard -house  where  the  sentry, 
rifle  in  hand,  paces  up  and  down  his  beat,  and  the  men  of 
the  guard  sit  on  benches  on  the  shady  side  of  the  hut,  lazily 
dozing,  or  sucking  at  their  short  pipes,  while  just  beyond, 
marching  and  countermarching  over  a  bare,  dusty  patch  of 
ground,  a  squad  of  candidates  for  martial  glory  is  undergoing 
the  ordeal  of  the  "setting-up"  drill  under  the  charge  of  a 
spruce  sergeant.  Now  and  then  we  meet  a  soldier  engaged 
on  some  fatigue  duty ;  a  working  party  in  their  canvas  over- 
alls, picks  and  shovels  on  their  shoulders,  crosses  the  road ; 
a  smart  hussar  orderly,  his  busby  strapped  under  his  chin,  and 
trappings  clanking  on  his  horse's  flanks,  trots  by;  the  hum  of 


56  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND  DRAGOONS. 

children's  voices  from  tlie  school  -  house  near  the  married  sol- 
diers' quarters  of  some  regiment  strikes  our  ears ;  and  in  the 
trim  little  gardens  about  the  officers'  houses  a  man  is  working 
about  the  flower-beds.  Passing  the  green  lawns  and  well- 
trimmed  hedges  of  the  officers'  club  grounds,  we  roll  over  the 
bridge  crossing  the  canal,  catching  a  glimpse,  as  we  do  so,  of 
some  boating  man  leisurely  sculling  over  the  smooth,  glassy- 
surface,  or  an  occasional  angler,  his  red  jacket  reflected  in  the 
still  water.  Down  in  a  pretty  green  valley,  relieving  pictu- 
resquely against  dark  masses  of  trees,  lies  an  infantry  camp, 
and  on  its  edge  some  of  the  men  are  busy  about  the  earthen 
ovens  preparing  the  noonday  meal.  Rows  of  camp-kettles,  half- 
hidden  in  little  columns  of  blue  smoke  and  the  steam  of 
their  savory  contents,  are  boiling  and  sputtering,  pans  of  meat 
and  potatoes  are  standing  on  the  ground,  ready  to  be  placed 
over  the  fire.  Some  of  the  men  are  chopping  wood  or  attend- 
ing to  the  fires,  while  the  cooks,  coatless,  and  with  their  shirt- 
sleeves rolled  above  their  elbows,  are  moving  about  in  the 
trenches  around  the  ovens  or  bending  over  their  tasks. 

As  we  turn  a  corner  I  catcli  sight  of  a  body  of  troops  com- 
ing towards  us,  their  band  playing  an  almost  forgotten  tune, 
an  air  that  I  had  often  heard  in  my  own  country,  and  it  carries 
my  memory  back  to  the  time  when  the  sound  of  martial  music 
was  almost  as  familiar  to  American  ears  as  the  ringing  of  the 
church -bells.  By  their  dark -green  uniforms,  so  dark  as  to  be 
almost  black,  I  know  them  to  be  riflemen.  They  form  one  of 
the  battalions  of  the  "  Royal  Rifles,"  the  "  Royal  Americans," 
raised  originally  in  America,  and  which  served  there  in  the 
French  and  Indian  War,  still  proudly  bearing  on  its  record  the 
names  of  some  of  the  bloody  battles  of  that  conflict,  the  result 
of  which  assured  to  the  British  crown  the  possession  of  the  Can- 
adas.     We  stop  as  they  pass,  marching  with  a  quick,  cadenced 


A    MEASURE   OF    DISCIPLINE. 


A    HOME    OF   TOMMY    ATKINS.  59 

step,  middle-sized,  sturdy  fellows,  their  Glengarries  cocked  rak- 
ishly  on  one  side  of  their  heads,  their  shining  black  leathers 
and  the  silver  ornaments  on  the  officers'  trappings  gleaming 
brightly  in  the  sunlight.  There  is  a  smart,  tidy  look  about  the 
men  in  spite  of  their  hard  morning's  drill  in  the  "  Long  Valley," 
and  the  consequent  powdering  of  yellow  dust  they  have  received. 
I  watch  them  as  they  wheel  off  the  road,  moving  over  the  level 
surface  of  the  "  Queen's  Parade,"  now  being  crossed  in  various 
directions  by  returning  battalions,  winding  in  scarlet -hued  and 
glittering  columns  over  the  green  turf,  while  the  air  is  filled 
with  the  scream  of  the  fifes  and  the  stirring  rattle  of  the  drums. 
As  it  nears  the  lines  of  huts  the  battalion  halts,  and  a  group  of 
men  who  have  been  awaiting  its  approach  advances  and  takes 
position  facing  it,  while  at  a  command  from  their  chief  the  offi- 
cers sheathe  their  sabres,  and  leaving  the  ranks,  form  an  irreg- 
ular semicircle  about  him.  A  measure  of  discipline  is  to  be 
enforced,  and  the  men  are  to  witness  the  punishment  and  dis- 
grace of  one  of  their  number.  The  man,  a  sergeant,  a  rather 
good-looking  young  fellow,  with  crisp,  curling  blond  hair  and 
sunburned  face,  seems  keenly  to  feel  his  position,  as,  under 
guard  of  a  soldier  with  drawn  bayonet,  he  stands  with  bowed 
head  and  cap  in  hand  facing  his  comrades,  while  the  adjutant,  in 
monotonous,  formal  tones,  reads  aloud  the  record  of  his  offence, 
his  trial  and  his  sentence.  Hardly  has  the  sound  of  the  last 
words  of  the  officer  died  away,  when  the  sergeant-major,  with  a 
few  rapid  cuts  of  his  knife,  severs  the  chevrons  from  the  sleeves 
of  the  culprit's  tunic,  and  as  the  badges  of  his  former  rank  drop 
to  the  ground,  the  latter,  bringing  his  hand  to  his  forehead  in 
salute  to  his  officers,  rapidly  marches  down  the  front  of  the 
line  and  returns  to  his  quarters.  It  was  a  painful  scene,  and 
seems  to  have  made  an  impression  on  the  men  as  they  are  dis- 
missed and  move  silently  off  the  .ground. 


6o  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

My  friends  stationed  at  the  camp  receive  me  with  the  frank, 
generous  hospitality  of  the  British  officer,  and  their  kind  and 
friendly  treatment  soon  makes  me  feel  thoroughly  at  home 
among  them,  free  to  come  and  go  as  I  please,  and  to  make  my 
acquaintance  with  Tommy  Atkins  at  my  leisure.  Just  when 
and  where  he  received  his  name  seems  to  be  a  matter  of  doubt, 
judging  from  the  reply  of  a  gentleman  who,  in  response  to  my 
inquiry  regarding  the  origin  of  Tommy's  cognomen,  answered 
that  it  must  have  been  derived  from  some  joke  in  Punch;  while 
according  to  others,  Thomas  Atkins  is  a  fictitious  personage, 
whose  name  is  made  use  of  in  military  forms  very  much  in  the 
same  manner  as  those  of  the  John  Does  and  Richard  Roes  of 
legal  documents.  Be  that  as  it  may,  "  Tommy  Atkins  "  is  the 
name  by  which  the  British  soldier  is  known  all  over  the  United 
Kingdom ;  and,  take  him  for  all  in  all,  a  right  good,  sturdy, 
broad-shouldered,  well-fed,  well -clad  fellow  he  is.  Perhaps 
nowhere  in  all  the  various  garrisons  and  stations  of  the  British 
army  can  his  life  in  time  of  peace,  and  the  generous  manner 
in  which  his  comfort  and  well-being,  physically  and  mentally, 
are  looked  after,  and  his  wants  provided  for,  be  seen  to  greater 
advantage  than  at  Aldershot,  the  school  at  which  thousands 
of  those  brave  fellows  are  trained  who  by  their  courage  and 
devotion  uphold  the  honor  of  the  nation  in  all  quarters  of  the 
globe.  All  branches  of  the  service  are  represented  here — engi- 
neers, artillery,  "  horse,  foot,  and  dragoons,"  and  all  the  varied 
types  of  character  in  the  army  are  to  be  met  with,  from  the  little 
drummer-boy  born  in  the  service  to  the  hardened  non-commis- 
sioned officer  of  a  dozen  campaigns.  Magnificent  types  of  the 
soldier  these  latter,  as  they  pass  through  the  streets  with  ring- 
ing strides,  straight  as  arrows,  neat  as  soap  and  water,  pipe-clay 
and  brush  can  make  them,  proud  of  their  position  and  of  their 
profession,  and   often   exercising  fully  as   much  authority  over 


A    HOME   OF   TOMMY   ATKINS.  6 1 

the  men  under  them  as  the  best  of  their  officers.  Authority 
of  a  different  kind,  perhaps,  but  with  the  military  maxim,  that 
to  be  able  to  command  one  must  be  able  to  obey,  so  ingrained 
in  their  very  nature  that  they  are  the  mainstay  and  dependence 
of  their  superiors.  The  discipline  in  the  army  is  of  the  strictest 
nature,  and  "  Tommy  "  has  plenty  of  work  to  do ;  but  his  leisure 
moments  are  well  provided  for,  and  when  he  does  honestly  what 
his  duty  requires  him  to  do,  he  has  plenty  of  chance  for  recrea- 
tion. His  life  has  many  advantages  that  his  fellows  in  the  same 
class  of  life  as  himself  do  not  enjoy ;  for  although  there  are  with- 
out doubt  many  men  of  education  serving  in  the  ranks  of  the 
army,  still  by  far  the  greater  majority  of  the  recruits  is  taken 
from  the  lower  ranks  of  Great  Britain's  vast  population,  and 
"  Tommy  "  is  much  better  housed,  clad,  and  fed  than  the  great 
mass  of  the  poorer  classes  of  the  people. 

A  canteen,  where  the  soldier  can  purchase  at  moderate  rates 
many  of  the  little  luxuries  of  life,  libraries,  reading,  smoking,  and 
recreation  rooms,  are  attached  to  the  large  barracks  at  Alder- 
shot.  Here  theatrical  performances,  often  of  considerable  merit, 
considering  the  resources  at  their  command,  are  frequently 
given  by  the  men,  and  the  soldiers  can  always  rely  upon  the 
generous  support  of  their  officers  in  their  amusements.  The 
theatre  or  music-hall  at  the  Royal  Artillery  Barracks  is  gener- 
ally well  attended  almost  any  evening,  and  a  good  "  song-and- 
dance "  man  enjoys  no  mean  degree  of  popularity  among  his 
comrades.  In  a  handsome  building  erected  on  one  of  the  main 
streets  of  the  town  private  enterprise  has  also  liberally  contrib- 
uted towards  the  culture  of  the  soldier's  mind  and  the  softening 
of  some  of  the  hardships  of  his  life. 

But  it  is  in  the  innate  love  that  all  Encrlishmen  bear  for 
athletic  sports  that  "  Tommy  "  comes  out  in  his  full  glory,  and 
his   officers   do   not  disdain  to   meet  him  on  equal  grounds  at 


62  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

cricket,  foot-ball,  and  other  out-door  games.  Different  branches 
of  the  service  frequently  meet  in  friendly  rivalry,  and  many  a 
match  is  played  on  the  grounds  of  the  oflficers'  club  between 
teams  of  various  regiments  or  corps  selected  from  among  the 
officers  and  men,  irrespective  of  their  military  rank.  It  is  not 
an  unusual  sight  to  see  a  game  among  the  officers  "  umpired  " 
by  some  veteran  non  -  commissioned  officer  skilled  in  all  the 
intricacies  of  the  national  game  of  cricket. 

The  most  interesting  of  the  purely  martial  sports — if  I  can 
use  the  word  in  reference  to  what  forms  part  of  the  drill  of  the 
cavalry  and  mounted  artillery  —  are  the  exciting  contests  of 
sabre  versus  sabre  or  sabre  versus  lance,  and  the  like,  when 
some  rival  "  rough-riders  "  are  pitted  against  one  another.  One 
can  easily  imagine  how  the  tournaments  of  old  appeared,  to  see 
these  active  fellows,  mounted  on  their  fine  horses,  which  seem 
to  sympathize  wuth  and  enter  into  the  spirit  of  their  riders,  as, 
clad  in  stout  leather  tunics,  their  heads  protected  with  strong 
wire  masks,  they  charge  down  on  one  another,  cutting,  thrust- 
ing, and  parrying,  retreating  and  pursuing.  Hard  knocks  are 
given  and  received  with  apparent  good-humor,  though  I  doubt 
not  that  long  habits  of  discipline  restrain  many  an  honest 
fellow's  temper  when  his  blood  is  up.  It  is  rough  but  manly 
work,  and  one  does  not  wonder,  on  seeing  what  training  they 
go  through,  that  the  British  horsemen  are  renowned  for  their 
courage  and  dexterity.  Another  sport,  in  which  the  nerve  and 
coolness  that  go  so  far  towards  making  a  good  cavalier  are 
displayed  to  great  advantage,  is  tent -pegging,  introduced,  I 
believe,  into  the  British  army  by  the  native  cavalrymen  of  the 
Indian  service.  The  player,  armed  with  a  light  bamboo  lance, 
puts  his  horse  at  full  gallop  over  the  course,  and  strikes  with  his 
lance-head  a  tent-peg  protruding  a  few  inches  out  of  the  ground, 
into  which  one  end  has  been  tightly  driven.      See  how  firmly 


iLXi-l'LL.Oi.\G. 


A    HOME    OF    TOMMY    ATKINS.  65 

yet  lightly  the  soldier  sits  his  horse,  body  bent  forward,  lance 
couched,  thundering  forward  at  the  top  of  his  charger  s  speed. 
Lower  down  on  his  horse's  neck,  a  tighter  clasp  of  the  legs, 
nearer  and  nearer — the  exact  moment  must  be  rightly  chosen 
— a  slight  turn  of  the  wrist  of  the  practised  bridle-hand — 
now !  crash  ! — and  he  swings  back  upright  into  the  saddle,  wav- 
ing the  light  lance  triumphantly  above  his  head  with  the  splin- 
tered piece  of  wood  transfixed  on  its  iron  point. 

A  favorite  resort  of  the  oiificers  of  the  garrison  and  their 
families  is  the  park-like  enclosure  of  the  "Club  Grounds,"  with 
its  pleasant  groups  of  shade  trees,  its  green,  velvety  lawns  and 
winding  paths,  and  the  scene  here  on  any  sunny  summer  after- 
noon is  an  animated  one.  A  large  space  is  devoted  to  the 
game  of  lawn -tennis,  and  the  swift,  graceful  movements  of  the 
players,  among  whom  are  many  ladies,  are  watched  with  inter- 
est by  little  knots  of  admiring  friends ;  their  cries  and  laughter, 
a  burst  of  applause  at  some  more  than  usually  dexterous  play, 
mingle  with  the  music  of  the  band  standing  under  the  over- 
hanging branches  of  the  trees  near  the  cricket -grounds,  or  in 
the  pagoda -like  bandstand.  Every  one,  with  the  exception  of 
an  occasional  soldier-servant  or  the  bandsmen,  is  in  plain  clothes 
— for  the  English  officer,  unlike  those  of  the  Continental  armies, 
wears  his  uniform  only  while  actually  on  duty  or  at  mess — and 
nearly  every  one  is  accompanied  by  his  faithful  four-footed  com- 
panion, his  dog.  Dogs  are  everywhere,  and  dogs  of  good  race, 
too,  well-trained,  and  showing  their  aristocratic  breeding:  pugs, 
terriers — Fox,  Scotch,  and  Skye— setters  and  pointers,  and  hand- 
some silken-haired  collies.  Sitting  on  the  benches,  watching  the 
players,  or  strolling  about  the  grounds,  are  scores  of  pretty  girls 
in  bright  summer  toilets,  with  more  than  one  of  whom  the 
young  "Subs"  in  their  train  are  enjoying  a  harmless  flirtation. 

A  quiet  row  late  in  the  afternoon  with  one  or  two  agreeable 
5 


66 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 


NO  BATHhN'q 

THi55JD£or 

THJ5  POST 


companions  on  the  smooth  waters  of 
the  canal,  now  in  disuse,  is  a  pleas- 
ure not  soon  to  be  forgotten.  Glid- 
ing between  its  pretty  banks,  with 
their  overhanging  fringe  of  bushes 
and  beds  of  water- weeds,  one  would 
scarcely  realize  that  one  is  really  in 
the  midst  of  a  vast  camp,  with  all 
its  busy  bustle  of  military  life,  were 
it  not  for  the  occasional  red -coat 
asleep  in  the  shade  of  some  group  of 
trees,  or  idly  angling  in  the  still,  calm 
waters.  Once,  too,  we  pass  a  sign- 
post, officially  warning  that  there  is 
"  no  bathing  allowed  this  side  of  this 
post,"  although,  as  the  post  stands 
entirely  alone,  without  any  landmark 
near  it,  one  is  puzzled  to  know  what 

'  ~^-^ -  side    "this    side"    means;    and    it    is 

easy  to  imagine  Tommys  perplexity 
as,  towel  in  hand,  he  meditatively  scratched  the  back  of  his 
head  when  he  read  the  order  for  the  first  time.  However,  he 
has  evidently  solved  the  problem,  for  farther  on  we  pass  a 
group  disporting  in  the  water,  and  the  scarlet  coats  hanging 
on  the  trees,  over  the  other  heaps  of  clothing  scattered  about, 
demonstrate  plainly  enough  that  it  is  composed  of  soldiers. 
If  they  are  guilty  of  any  slight  breach  of  discipline  it  is  not 
noticed  by  my  companions,  they  realizing,  no  doubt,  that  the 
weather  is  hot,  and  that  Tommy  has  the  true  John  Bull  love 
for  cold  water — as  an  element  to  bathe  in — as  well  as  his 
superiors. 

There  are  miles  of  pretty  walks   about  Aldershot,  through 


A    HOME   OF   TOMMY   ATKINS. 


67 


lovely  country  lanes  or  past  sleeping  ponds  of  water,  up  to  the 
purple,  fir -topped  Fox  Hills,  or  along  the  Hog's  Back  on  the 
road  to  Guildford,  past  little  way-side  inns,  old  vine-covered  cot- 
tages with  latticed  windows  and  blooming  flower-gardens,  quiet 
country  churches  in  the  centre  of  a  little  colony  of  grassy 
graves,  marked  with  moss  -  covered  stones,  green  hedges  with 
wide-spreading  yew-trees  and  scarlet-berried  holly.  On  one  side 
stretch  fields  of  golden  corn,  little  villages  nestling  low  down 
among  groups  of  green  trees,  or  perched  high  on  some  hill -top, 
winding  country  roads,  here  and  there  the  white  puff  of  steam 
from  a  rapidly  speeding  train  on  the  railway  in  the  distance, 
the  commanding  towers  of  some  gentleman's  seat,  with  the 
rooks  circling  round  the  tops  of  the  oaks  in  the  park ;  while,  on 


ON    THE   CANAL. 


68  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

the  other  hand,  down  below  us  we  see  the  rectangular  rows  of 
huts  and  white  tents  of  the  camp,  and  the  spires  and  chimneys 
of  Aldershot  Town,  toned  down  by  the  distance  and  the  soft 
gray  of  the  atmosphere. 

Returning  at  sunset  from  some  such  walk,  our  appetites 
sharpened  by  the  exercise  and  the  pure,  sweet  air,  we  hurry 
to  our  quarters,  dress  for  dinner,  and  repair  to  the  mess-room, 
already  half  filled  with  ofificers  in  their  handsome  mess  uniforms. 
It  is  a  large,  comfortable  room,  carpeted  with  rugs  and  furnished 
with  easy,  leather-covered  chairs  and  divans.  Pictures  of  sport- 
ing and  military  subjects,  an  ordnance  map,  copies  of  orders 
and  regulations  are  on  the  walls,  and  scattered  in  confusion  over 
the  tables  are  newspapers  and  magazines,  books  of  tactics,  the 
"  Army  List,"  etc.  Punctually  at  eight  o'clock  dinner  is  an- 
nounced, and  we  enter  the  dining-room  and  take  our  places 
at  the  long  table,  covered  with  its  glittering  array  of  glassware 
and  gold  and  silver  plate  —  racing -cups  won  by,  and  trophies 
presented  to,  the  mess.  It  is  a  long,  wide  room,  with  high  ceil- 
ings and  large  plate-glass  windows.  Portraits  of  the  Queen  and 
of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  in  the  uniform  of  the  corps,  hang  on  the 
walls  over  two  wide  fireplaces,  while  over  a  handsome  sideboard 
are  fastened  various  trophies  of  the  chase  in  foreign  lands, 
among  which  are  the  branching  antlers  and  huge,  mule-shaped 
head  of  an  American  moose,  shot  in  the  wilds  of  the  Canadian 
forests  by  one  of  the  members  of  the  mess.  The  dinner  of 
several  courses  bears  evidence  of  the  skill  of  the  mess  cook ; 
and  as  the  decanters  are  passed  around  the  table  towards  its 
end,  the  only  toast  of  the  evening — the  Queen — is  drunk  stand- 
ing and  in  respectful  silence.  Then  with  the  coffee  and  cigars 
the  events  of  the  day  are  discussed,  conversation  becomes  more 
o-eneral,  and  from  the  commandant  to  the  latest  joined  sub- 
altern, all  seem  to  feel  that  peace  with  the  world  and  one's  self 


A    HOME   OF   TOMMY    ATKINS.  69 

supposed  to  be  the  result  of  a  good  dinner  and  an  easy  con- 
science. Those  officers  who  may  still  have  duties  to  attend 
to  take  their  departure,  while  the  others  sit  down  to  a  quiet 
game  of  whist  or  repair  to  the  billiard -room.  Thus  quietly 
passes  the  evening,  and  Aldershot  goes  to  rest,  the  only  sound 
being  the  occasional  "  Who  comes  here  .^"  of  the  sentries,  as 
some  belated  officer,  who  has  sat  longer  than  usual  over  his 
game  of  cards  or  the  pages  of  the  latest  novel,  passes  across 
the  paved  courts  towards  his  quarters. 

And  now  the  quiet  of  the  summer  season,  with  its  round 
of  drills,  parades,  inspections,  and  all  the  daily  recurring  episodes 
of  the  life  of  the  camp,  is  broken  by  darkening  thunder- clouds 
of  war,  sweeping  up  in  gloomy,  threatening  masses,  and  flashes 
of  lurid  lightning  from  the  eastward  of  the  political  horizon. 
Some  one  with  careless  and  bloody  hand  has  roused  the  British 
lion  from  his  peaceful  slumber;  some  of  his  dear  children,  far 
away  across  the  waters,  have  been  driven  forth  in  the  light 
of  their  burning  homes,  or  have  fallen  under  the  pitiless  daggers 
of  religious  fanaticism,  and  he  is  rising  in  his  might,  showing 
his  teeth,  and  ready  to  use  them  too,  in  vengeance  on  the 
disturbers  of  his  peace. 

Marching  orders  from  the  Horse  Guards  have  arrived. 
Aldershot  is  in  a  state  of  excitement  and  bustle,  preparing  and 
mustering  the  forces  for  departure  for  the  seat  of  war,  and 
Tommy,  ever  ready  for  a  fight,  or  a  change  in  the  monotony 
of  his  daily  existence,  is  filled  with  enthusiasm  and  eager  for 
the  fray. 

It  is  between  three  and  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and 
the  gray  light  is  just  stealing  through  the  mist  of  the  gently 
falling  rain,  as  I  stand  in  the  Framborough  station  listening 
to  the  distant  cheering  and  the  plaintive  strains  of  "  Auld  Lang 
Syne,"  which  betoken  the  approach  of  some  departing  regiment. 
5* 


70  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

A  long  line  of  railway-carriages  and  horse-trucks,  their  wet  tops 
glistening,  and  the  black  smoke  from  the  locomotive  curling 
over  them,  stand  in  readiness  alongside  the  platforni.  Some 
porters  are  engaged  taking  off  the  tarpaulins  that  have  covered 
a  little  pile  of  luggage,  and  are  stowing  it  away  in  one  of  the 
vans,  and  the  station-master  and  his  assistants  are  hurrying 
about,  busy  in  their  preparations  for  the  reception  of  their 
freight.  Up  the  station  road  two  horsemen,  trotting  rapidly 
along,  loom  up  through  the  mist ;  farther  behind  them  we  can 
see  a  dark  mass  moving  slowly  towards  us,  and  the  sound  of 
the  music  grows  louder  and  more  distinct  as  the  troops  come 
forward  and  halt  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  above  the  station. 
They  are  cavalry,  and  as  the  leading  squadron  breaks  from  the 
column  and  marches  in  through  the  gates  we  see  that  they  are 
hussars.  The  men  are  clad  in  their  campaign  dresses — dark- 
blue  serge  blouses,  white  sun -helmets  and  "puggarees,"  well- 
filled  haversacks  and  canteens,  untanned  leather  boots,  carbines, 
and  sabres.  Their  saddles  are  packed  in  heavy  marching  order, 
and  there  is  a  decidedly  business-like  look  about  both  men  and 
horses.  They  dismount  and  form  their  horses  into  line,  un- 
buckle their  sabres,  and  together  with  the  carbines,  place  them 
on  the  ground  in  their  rear,  and  immediately  commence  the 
business  of  embarking.  One  by  one  the  horses  are  led  forward, 
and  driven,  pushed,  and  forced  into  the  trucks ;  one  honest 
fellow,  whose  horse  is  rather  nervous,  coaxing  it,  and  calling 
it  by  all  kinds  of  endearing  names,  kissing  it  on  the  nose,  and 
finally  triumphantly  persuading  it  to  enter,  step  by  step,  into 
the  car.  Gradually  the  enclosure  about  the  station  is  filling 
up.  A  general  officer  with  his  aide  and  a  couple  of  orderlies 
have  arrived,  a  brake  filled  with  officers  who  have  come  to  bid 
their  friends  farewell  drives  up,  and  here  and  there  a  poor 
soldiers  wife  with  tear-stained  face,  perhaps  two  or  three  tow- 


'THE   GIRL    I    LEFT    BEHIND    ME. 


A    HOME   OF   TOMMY   ATKINS.  73 

headed  children  cHnging  to  her  skirts,  sobs  on  the  shoulder 
of  some  stalwart  fellow.  Wonderfully  gentle  is  the  great, 
coarse,  sunburned  soldier  as  he  kisses  his  little  ones  and  holds 
the  companion  of  his  humble  life  closer  to  him  for  the  few  short 
moments  that  are  yet  to  be  spared  to  them,  as  some  rough 
fellow,  his  comrade,  who  has  no  wife  or  child  of  his  own,  under- 
takes to  fulfil  his  friends  share  of  the  work  of  embarkation 
in  addition  to  his  own.  The  scene  becomes  livelier  as  the 
awakening  day  sheds  fuller  light  on  the  busy  crowd,  and  troop 
after  troop  enters  the  station  as  the  horses  of  the  preceding 
ones  are  put  on  board  the  train ;  bundles  of  hay  and  forage 
for  the  baiting  of  the  horses  during  the  journey  to  the  coast 
are  handed  into  the  cars  from  the  heavy  wagons  of  the  Army 
Service  Corps,  luggage  is  stowed  away  under  the  seats  in  the 
carriages,  or  corded  firmly  under  the  tarpaulins  on  the  tops. 
Near  the  first-class  carrias^e  at  the  head  of  the  train  the  officers 
are  smoking  a  parting  cigar  with  their  friends,  sergeants  and 
corporals  and  busy  orderlies  are  moving  about,  and  the  men, 
picking  up  their  weapons,  are  falling  in  again,  preparatory  to 
embarking  in  their  turn,  The  colonel  is  receiving  a  few  part- 
ing directions  from  the  general,  a  fine,  aristocratic,  middle-aged 
gentleman,  with  soldierly  bearing  and  gray  military  mustache 
and  whiskers,  the  gold-braided  peak  of  his  cap  drawn  down  over 
his  eyes,  and  his  overcoat  covering  his  plain,  tasteful  undress 
uniform.  The  last  horse  has  been  shut  in,  the  last  straggling 
soldier  has  taken  his  place  in  the  carriages,  the  windows  of 
which  are  crowded  with  heads,  the  last  good-bys  are  being  said, 
sobbinor  women  and  children  watch  husband  and  father  with 
streaming  eyes,  the  younger  and  more  thoughtless  of  the  sol- 
diers are  cracking  their  parting  jokes.  The  colonel  touches  his 
helmet,  and  with  a  shake  of  the  general's  hand  turns  to  the 
train.    "  Get  on  board,  gentlemen  !"  to  the  ol^cers.    "  All  ready  !" 


74 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 


the  station-master  raises  his  hand,  the  whistle  of  the  locomotive 
shrieks,  the  band  on  the  platform  strikes  up  "  Auld  Lang  Syne  " 
again.  Slowly  the  great  driving-wheels  of  the  engine  begin 
to  move.  "Good -by,  Mary,  Tom,  Katie!  God  bless  you! 
Good -luck!"  And  with  handkerchiefs  waving  and  helmets 
swinging  from  the  windows,  amid  loud  cheers  the  long  train, 
gathering  speed  as  it  moves,  glides  down  the  long  line  of 
glistening  rails  and  disappears  around  a  curve. 


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rp       l)fit  iiictjt  mtl^r  jy  firiTjten.'^u  pirijen; 

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-.i--*' 


GERMANY 


A    NIGHT   WITH    THE   FOURTH    CORPS 


A  NIGHT  WITH  THE  FOURTH  CORPS. 


y^ilKr'- 


E  had  met  the  enemy,  and  they 
were  ours  !" — that  is  to  say, 
the  manoeuvres  of  the  day 
were  nearly  over,  the  um- 
pires had  rendered  their 
decisions,  the  enemy  was  in 
full  retreat,  and  we,  in  the 
advance  of  our  corps,  were 
in  hot  pursuit.  We  were 
in  a  lovely  country,  on  the 
edge  of  Thuringia,  the  garden  of  Germany,  and  in  one  of  its 
most  ancient  provinces,  rich  and  fertile  Altenburg.  A  lovely 
country  indeed,  with  velvety  green  valleys,  threaded  by  silvery 
winding  streams,  smiling  and  sparkling  in  the  sun,  and  dotted 
with  groups  of  red-roofed  farm-houses,  half  concealed  in  fruit- 
filled  orchards.  Away  over  in  our  front,  along  the  richly  wood- 
ed, rolling  hills,  ran  the  white,  dusty  highway,  winding  in  and 
out  among  the  trees,  and  covered  with  the  long  columns  of  the 
slowly  retreating  enemy,  their  light-horse  —  "Green  Hussars," 
so  called  from  the  color  of  their  dolmans — hoverins;  in  clouds 
on  their  flanks  and  rear,  and  stubbornly  contesting  our  advance. 
Sometimes  the  report  of  a  rifle,  and  a  wreath  of   blue  smoke 


8o  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND  DRAGOONS. 

curling  up  and  floating  a  moment  in  the  clear  air,  as  our  skir- 
mishers came  in  contact  with  their  cavalry,  and  the  occasional 
surly  boom  of  a  field-piece,  as  our  horse-artillery  fired  a  parting 
shot  at  the  column  slowly  disappearing  in  the  distance,  indi- 
cated the  direction  of  our  pursuit.  Back  in  the  valleys  behind 
us,  relieving:  ag^ainst  the  white  walls  of  some  houses  forming: 
a  diminutive  village,  and  the  possession  of  which  had  been  the 
object  of  the  day's  manoeuvres,  we  could  see  our  main  body,  the 
different  brigades  and  regiments  massed  in  solid  dark  squares 
on  the  green  fields,  where  they  were  taking  up  their  positions 
preparatory  to  going  into  bivouac  for  the  night. 

It  was  well  into  the  afternoon  when  the  pursuit  ended.  The 
last  stragsflins:,  hostile  hussar  had  vanished  behind  the  hills,  our 
skirmishers  were  called  in  and  joined  their  respective  commands, 
and  our  battalion  left  the  road  on  which  we  had  been  marching, 
and  formed  in  close  column  of  companies  on  a  level  field  near 
by.  A  squadron  of  our  own  cavalry  and  a  battery  of  horse- 
artillery  were  already  in  position  near  us.  The  guns  were  in 
park,  and  formed  a  sombre,  formidable  line,  with  their  massive 
but  lifiht  wheels  and  carriaws  covered  with  dust,  and  their 
threatening  muzzles  blue  with  the  powder  they  had  been  burn- 
ing during  the  day.  The  men  were  as  busy  as  bees  about  their 
horses,  caring  for  them  first,  picketing  them  in  lines  and  shak- 
ing down  their  forage,  but  keeping  the  saddles  on,  and  ready 
for  service  at  a  moment's  notice.  The  cavalry  had  not  all  fin- 
ished their  day's  work  yet,  for  the  detail  for  the  pickets  rode 
off  as  we  approached,  to  form  a  line  of  videttes  away  in  our 
front  along  the  highway  over  which  the  enemy  had  retreated, 
and  that  ran  at  nearly  right  angles  with  our  present  position. 

Tired,  hot,  and  hungry,  hands  and  faces  blackened  by  pow- 
der-smoke and  grimy  with  dirt,  clothes  and  accoutrements  cov- 
ered with  dust,  but  with  not  a  button  out  of  place,  not  one  heavy 


"J^  'P 


SKIRMISHERS    IN'    PCRSUIT. 


I 


A    NIGHT   WITH    THE    FOURTH    CORPS.  8^ 

helmet  shifted  off  their  streaming  foreheads,  not  a  strap  of  the 
heavy  knapsacks  unbuckled  or  eased  up,  with  eyes  straight  to 
the  front,  heels  together,  bodies  erect,  and  the  alignment  perfect, 
our  sturdy  infantrymen  stood  motionless  where  they  had  been 
halted,  as  if  on  parade,  fresh  from  their  barracks.  Although 
on  their  feet  since  early  morning,  marching  and  skirmishing 
all  day  long,  although  footsore  and  half  faint  with  hunger — for 
they  had  not  had  a  chance  to  eat  since  their  breakfast — the  iron 
German  discipline  held  its  stern  sway  over  officers  and  men 
alike,  and  every  movement,  and  every  detail  of  a  movement, 
every  necessary  change  in  the  manual  of  arms,  was  executed 
throughout  with  the  mechanical  precision  of  a  tireless  machine. 
As  the  order  to  stack  arms  was  given,  the  pieces  came  together 
without  clashing,  their  butts  falling  with  a  dull  thud  to  the 
ground,  the  leathern,  brass-bound,  spear-pointed  "  Pickelhauben" 
were  lifted  off,  placed  under  the  stacks,  each  man's  helmet  by 
the  butt  of  his  rifle,  and  replaced  by  the  soft,  vizorless,  blue  for- 
age-caps. The  hair-covered  knapsacks  were  unslung,  and  placed 
in  correctly  aligned  rows  in  rear  of  the  lines  of  stacks,  over- 
coats were  unrolled  and  put  on,  the  heavy  cartridge-boxes, 
swinging  on  their  pipe-clayed  leather  belts,  were  buckled  around 
the  waists,  and  the  canteens  and  haversacks  slung  over  the 
shoulders,  for,  when  in  the  advanced  guards,  soldiers,  even  when 
preparing  for  rest,  lie  down  in  harness,  and  if  awakened  by  the 
call  to  arms,  are  ready  at  once.  Facing  to  the  right,  and  break- 
ing as  one  man  into  the  cadenced  step,  the  battalion  marched 
to  a  position  alongside  of  its  arms,  each  company  in  a  line 
with  its  own  rifles ;  the  ranks  were  broken,  and  the  soldiers 
immediately  began  preparations  for  the  evening  meal  and  for 
passing  the  night.  Some  were  detailed  to  go  in  search  of 
water,  and  the  various  squads,  their  tin  camp-kettles,  habitually 
carried  strapped  to  the  top  of  the  knapsacks,  hanging  on  their 


84  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

arms,  were  falling  in  or  marching  off  over  the  adjacent  fields, 
others  were  unloading  a  huge  wagon -pile  of  straw  that  had 
come  up  meanwhile  from  the  rear,  the  soldiers  carrying  it 
away  in  great  armfuls  to  make  their  beds ;  some  were  cutting 
wood  or  digging  the  circular  trenches  around  the  places  where 
the  bivouac  fires  were  to  be  made,  and  which  serve  as  a  pre- 
ventative to  the  straw  on  which  the  men  lie  being  ignited  by 
the  flames,  while  others  again  were  busily  engaged  in  pleating 
the  same  material  into  great  screens,  to  protect  the  sleepers 
from  the  wind.  These  screens  are  fastened  to  stakes  driven 
into  the  ground,  and  form  a  circle — an  opening  being  left  for 
the  inorress  and  egrress  of  the  men  —  around  the  fire,  the  sol- 
diers  sleeping  with  their  heads  against  the  screens  and  their 
feet  towards  the  flames.  The  circle  is  called  a  "  Feuerring  " 
{anglice,  fire- ring),  and  forms  as  warm  and  comfortable  a  sleep- 
ing-place as  the  circumstances  will  permit. 

Although  now  no  longer  confined  to  the  strict  discipline 
of  the  ranks,  the  same  spirit  of  order  seemed  to  reign  among 
the  men.  I  could  hear  them  chatting  and  laughing  over  their 
tasks,  but  in  a  subdued  manner,  and  with  a  stolid  attention  to 
the  work  in  hand.  There  was  no  loud  singing  and  whistling, 
no  dancing  the  "can -can,"  no  shouting  and  gesticulating,  but 
everything  was  thoroughly  and  quickly  done,  and  the  straw- 
encircled  "  Feuerringe  "  rose  as  if  by  magic  all  about  the  quiet 
fields.  No  more  picturesque  or  appropriate  spot  could  have 
well  been  chosen  for  a  bivouac  than  the  little  dell  in  which 
we  were  encamped.  There  was  not  a  house  or  structure  of  any 
kind  in  sight,  for  we  lay  in  a  little  green  basin  among  the  hills, 
surrounded  by  the  quiet  woods,  the  rays  of  the  afternoon  sun 
streaming  through  the  leafy  openings  among  the  trees,  and 
dancing  in  sparkling  points  of  light  on  the  burnished  metal 
of  the  piles  of  arms.     The  caterer  of  the  mess  had  been  fortu- 


A    NIGHT   WITH   THE    FOURTH    CORPS. 


85 


ARIILLERV    OUTPOST — A    QUIET    GAME. 


enough 
procure  a 
ood  dinner 
for  us,  which  we  had 
cHscussed  in  the  mess- 
tent,  pitched  under  the 
shade  of  the  trees  on  the  edge  of  the  field,  with  appetites 
sharpened  by  the  hard  march  and  the  long  delay  consequent 
upon  our  meal  having  been  brought  up  to  us  from  the  distant 
rear;  and  now  we  sat  or  lounged  on  the  soft  grass,  smoking 
and  sipping  our  after-dinner  coffee,  which,  although  destitute 
of  sweetening,  and  drunk  out  of  all  kinds  of  drinking-vessels, 
from  the  tin  mug  of  the  private  soldier  to  the  regulation  cof- 
fee-cup, was  as  aromatic  and  soothing  as  if  fresh  from  Mocha 
itself. 

As  the  sun  sank  in  the  west,  casting  gigantic  shadows  of 
the  movinsf  fio-ures  of  the  men  on  the  lawn-like  surface  of  our 
resting-place,  the  life  of  the  bivouac  quieted  down,  and  the  men, 
some  of  them,  their  duties  ended,  and  overcome  by  fatigue,  were 
sleeping  anywhere  on  the  ground,  others  were  chatting  together 


86  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

in  little  groups,  or  polishing  and  cleaning  the  brasses  of  their 
accoutrements  and  the  barrels  of  their  guns,  some  strolled 
about  aimlessly,  their  hands  clasped  behind  them  or  thrust 
in  their  belts,  or  stood  idly  smoking  their  great  porcelain  pipes, 
and  watching  a  game  of  cards,  or  listening  to  the  maxims  of 
some  burly,  bewhiskered,  non-commissioned  officer.  Now  and 
then  the  notes  of  some  soldier  song  or  sweet  German  ballad, 
sung  in  subdued  and  low  tones,  floated  in  the  still,  calm  air, 
mingling  with  the  restless  pawing  of  the  horses  and  the  even- 
ing hymns  of  the  birds  in  the  adjacent  forest.  Once  a  stag 
with  a  doe  or  two  appeared  on  the  edge  of  the  woods,  and 
gazed  with  wondering,  frightened  eyes  at  the  unwonted  sight, 
and  then,  bounding  back  again,  vanished  into  the  thickets. 

The  company  detailed  to  occupy  the  picket  lines  and  to 
relieve  the  cavalry  videttes  now  fell  in  under  arms,  and  silently 
took  up  its  march  towards  the  position  assigned  to  it.  This 
detachment  was  to  form  a  post  in  front  of  our  own,  and  was 
again  to  be  guarded  by  a  smaller  detail  from  its  ranks,  lying 
between  it  and  the  advanced  sentries,  and  furnish  the  reliefs 
for  their  line,  the  object  being  to  guard  against  surprise  by  any 
body  of  the  enemy  during  the  night.  Already  the  quiet  of  the 
evening  had  been  broken  by  an  occasional  shot  in  the  distance, 
and  we  knew  that  the  restless  light -horsemen  of  our  active 
opponent  had  been  annoying  our  videttes. 

The  twilight  was  fast  closing  in  as,  after  promising  to  return 
to  a  "  Bowie,"  or  light  wine  punch,  which  it  was  proposed  to 
brew  in  the  mess  that  evening  —  a  promise  gladly  given,  as  I 
had  no  desire  to  lie  shivering  all  night  on  the  picket  line — I 
hurried  after  the  little  column  winding  over  the  fields  in  the 
gloaming.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  by  the  men  as  we  marched, 
and  care  was  taken  to  keep  on  the  low  grounds  and  under  the 
shelter  of  the  woods,  until  we  reached  a  little  hollow,  where  a 


A    VIDETTE. 


A    NIGHT   WITH    THE  FOURTH    CORPS.  89 

few  trees  and  a  high  hedge,  that  ran  along  some  abandoned 
or  unused  grounds  or  game  preserves  at  its  top,  would  hide 
what  fire  might  be  built  from  the  pi'ying  eyes  of  some  prowl- 
ing hussar  or  vigilant  scouting  party  of  the  enemy.  Here  the 
post  was  established,  and  the  lieutenant  who  was  to  have 
charge  of  the  fore-post  started  at  once  with  his  command  to 
a  point  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  farther  in  advance,  where  he 
likewise  placed  his  men  in  a  sheltered  nook,  and  proceeded  to 
relieve  the  cavalrymen.  We  were  now  on  the  turnpike  already 
mentioned,  and  soon  established  communication  with  the  rest 
of  the  line  of  advanced  pickets  on  our  right  and  left.  Noth- 
ing of  the  enemy  was  visible,  and  everything  about  was  as  si- 
lent as  if  thousands  of  men  with  hundreds  of  horses  were  not 
lying  "  in  all  the  country  'round."  The  day,  save  for  the  last 
warm  flush  in  the  heavens  in  the  west,  was  gone,  and  the  stars 
shone  down  on  the  peaceful  landscape  from  an  unclouded  sky ; 
there  was  a  light  breeze,  and  the  tall  poplars  that  bordered  the 
highway,  stretching  gray  in  a  long  line  till  lost  in  the  gathering 
shadows,  slightly  moved  their  feathery  tops;  the  faint  voices 
of  the  nio-ht  were  heard,  and  the  air  was  frao-rant  with  the 
perfume  of  early  evening,  and  cool  and  moist  with  the  gently 
falling  dew.  Silently  the  sentries  stood  under  the  poplar-trees, 
their  watchful  eyes  and  ready  ears  strained  to  catch  the  slight- 
est movement  or  hear  the  least  suspicious  sound  in  their  front. 
Returning  to  the  post  first  established,  I  found  that,  with  true 
soldier's  readiness,  the  men  had  made  themselves  as  comforta- 
ble as  possible,  had  improvised  a  wind-screen  and  "fire-ring" 
from  a  lot  of  branches  and  brush  they  had  gathered,  and  had 
constructed  a  most  cosey  and  warm  little  hut — if  hut  a  struct- 
ure barely  four  feet  high  and  wide,  and  about  six  or  seven 
feet  long,  could  so  be  designated — for  the  accommodation  of 
the  two   officers   in   charge.     Their  fire   was   burning   brightly, 


90  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

and  they  were  all  hopeful  of  spending  a  quiet  night,  undis- 
turbed by  those  wretched  "  Green  Hussars,"  who  had  so  per- 
sistently bothered  the  videttes  up  to  sunset.  I  bade  them 
good -night,  and  started  back  over  the  fields  to  rejoin  my 
friends  at  the  bivouac — a  way  easily  found,  for,  after  skirting 
the  little  hills  that  formed  the  sides  of  the  hollow,  I  could 
see  the  orlare  of  the  fires  that  had  meanwhile  been  liohted. 

Away  off  on  the  horizon  a  yellow  flickering  light  betokened 
the  presence  of  the  main  body  of  our  corps,  whence,  as  I  stood 
for  a  moment  alone  in  the  darkness,  enjoying  the  weird  strange- 
ness of  the  scene,  there  came,  borne  on  the  evening  wind  over 
the  distant  fields,  faintly  yet  distinctly,  the  plaintive  sound  of  the 
fifes  and  muffled  rolling  of  the  drums,  rising  and  falling  in  one 
strange,  sad,  sweet  note,  and  then  dying  away  in  a  last  long- 
drawn  wail.  It  was  "  das  Locken,"  or  call  for  assembly,  and 
was  followed  after  a  moment's  pause  by  the  crash  of  the 
regimental  bands,  mellowed  and  softened  by  the  distance,  play- 
ing the  martial  German  "  Zapfenstreich  " — the  tattoo  —  and  I 
knew  the  hour  of  rest  had  come. 

Hurrying  forward,  I  reached  our  bivouac  just  as  the  troop 
was  falling  in  for  the  evening  prayer,  although  no  tattoo  had 
been  beaten  there,  we  being  too  near  the  enemy,  and  the  music 
might  have  betrayed  our  whereabouts.  Quietly  our  little  force 
moved  up  in  front  of  the  fires,  the  guard  standing  to  their  arms. 
"Halt!  Richt  euch  !"  and  they  stood  there  motionless  in  one 
solid,  dark  block,  relieving  strong  against  the  bright  light  of  the 
fires  and  columns  of  smoke  and  sparks  rising  almost  straight 
upward  to  the  black  heavens.  Out  of  the  darkness  came  a 
short  word  of  command,  "  Caps  off  for  prayer !"  and  in  solemn, 
unbroken  silence,  with  uncovered  and  reverently  bowed  heads, 
the  rough  soldiers  rendered  thanks  to  the  Almighty  for  His 
mercies. 


A    NIGHT   WITH    THE    FOURTH    CORPS.  93 

Lighted  candles,  stuck  in  bottles  or  fastened  to  rough -hewn 
blocks  of  wood,  were  gleaming  brightly  on  the  plain  pine  boards 
of  the  improvised  table  under  the  mess- tent,  when,  the  men 
having  been  dismissed,  the  officers  sat  down  for  an  hour's  chat 
and  smoke  before  turning  in ;  and  although  our  seats  varied 
in  shape  and  size  from  a  mess-chest  to  a  folding  camp-chair,  and 
the  table  appointments  were  of  the  simplest  description,  it  would 
have  been  difficult  to  have  found  a  merrier  or  more  comfortable 
set  of  men  than  that  of  which  our  little  party  was  composed. 
A  handsome,  soldierly  lot  of  gentlemen  these  German  officers, 
treating  one  with  the  freedom  of  the  camp,  but  with  the  well- 
bred  courtesy  of  their  class,  and  full  of  eager  hospitality  to  the 
stranger  from  far-off  America.  Many  were  the  questions  asked 
about  the  land  beyond  the  sea,  where  so  many  of  their  country- 
men and  their  descendants  had  their  homes ;  about  France, 
where  I  had  been  living  for  a  long  time,  and  about  Paris,  where 
I  still  resided ;  about  the  French  army,  their  life  and  their  hab- 
its. Then  the  yarns  about  the  late  war  between  the  two  coun- 
tries, the  suffering,  the  hardships,  the  fun  and  the  fighting,  the 
good  wines  and  fair  women  of  "Sunny  France" — yarns  that 
made  the  youngsters  of  the  mess  envious  of  their  elders,  and 
anxious  to  take  part  some  day  in  a  like,  to  them,  glorious 
struggle.  There  was  no  boasting,  no  exultation  of  the  victor 
over  the  vanquished,  but  the  natural  talk  of  soldiers  over  the 
adventures  of  a  campaign,  the  like  of  which  has  seldom  been 
met  with  in  history. 

So  the  evening  wore  away  in  pleasant  chat,  until  the  major, 
our  commandant,  gave  the  signal  for  us  to  disperse,  and  we 
sought  our  beds.  By  the  kind  forethought  of  one  of  the  officers 
— most  amiable  and  considerate  of  lieutenants — I  found  that 
a  comfortable  lair  had  been  prepared  for  me  by  his  side  in  one 
of  the  fire-rings,  and  snugly  wrapped  in  our  overcoats,  a  rubber 


94  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND   DRAGOONS. 

blanket  under  us  and  a  big  woollen  one  over  us,  my  valise  for 
a  pillow,  we  laid  down  in  the  straw  by  the  roaring  fire.  Bidding 
me  a  kind  good-night,  my  companion  was  soon  in  the  land  of 
dreams,  while  I  still  lay  watching  the  sleeping  men  and  the 
silent  figure  of  the  fire-guard,  as  he  sat  on  a  log  of  wood,  poring 
over  a  story-book  by  the  light  of  the  frames,  and  occasionally 
rising  to  replenish  the  fire  from  a  pile  of  wood  at  his  side.  My 
neighbor  on  my  other  side  was  a  great  stout  sergeant,  who 
snored  like  a  trooper,  and  who  kept  edging  up  to  me  for  warmth 
and  creature  comfort.  Never  awakenino-  if  I  made  the  sliorht- 
est  movement  to  escape  from  his  too  close  companionship,  the 
worthy  fellow  would  grunt  and  edge  up  again  until  close  to  me, 
when  at  last  I  gave  up  in  despair  and  philosophically  resigned 
myself  to  the  inevitable.  Gradually  my  eyes  closed,  the  man 
by  the  fire  grew  more  indistinct  —  are  there  two  men  reading 
romances.''  or  is  it  one  man  with  two  heads.'' — I  felt  the 
comfortable,  soothing  warmth  of  early  sleep,  and  soon  all  was 
oblivion. 

What  was  that.'*  Am  I  a  boy  again,  and  is  it  the  Fourth  of 
July,  and  have  my  playmates  begun  the  celebration  of  the  day 
with  the  phiz  and  bang  of  the  early  fire -cracker.''  Something 
has  disturbed  my  slumber,  and  still  dreaming  that  it  is  time 
to  get  up,  and  that  Harry  Brown  and  Tommy  Black  are  out 
before  me  on  Independence  Day,  I  half  open  my  eyes.  Pop! 
pop  !  prrrutt !  pop !  Those  are  no  fire-crackers,  nor  is  it  Harry 
Brown  who  is  shaking  me  by  the  arm  and  speaking  to  me 
in  guttural  German,  but  my  honest  friend,  the  sergeant,  who 
is  telling  me  that  the  outposts  have  been  attacked,  and  who 
is  "blankinir"  the  industrious  fellows  on  the  other  side,  who 
cannot  let  peacefully  disposed  soldiers  enjoy  their  well-earned 
night's  repose.  As  I  sprang  to  my  feet  and  looked  about  me, 
I  saw  the  men  rising  from  the  straw  and  gazing,  half  dazed,  out 


THE  FIRE-GUARD. 


A   NIGHT   WITH    THE    FOURTH    CORPS.  97 

into  the  gloom,  or  rubbing  the  sleep  from  their  eyes,  as  they 
awaited  the  ^expected  signal  to  rush  to  their  posts.  The  lieu- 
tenant was  standing  by  the  fire  in  an  attitude  of  eager  attention, 
his  great-coat  thrown  back  and  ready  to  be  cast  aside,  while  the 
murmur  of  voices  that  arose  from  about  the  other  fires  showed 
that  the  men  there,  too,  were  aroused.  Suddenly  there  was 
another  dropping  series  of  reports,  followed  in  rapid  succession 
by  two  or  three  volleys  of  musketry,  and  the  cry  "  To  arms !" 
rang  out  in  the  night.  In  an  instant  everything  was  in  motion, 
as  the  men  rushed  at  the  top  of  their  speed  to  the  piles  of  arms. 
But  there  was  no  confusion.  Every  man  knew  his  place,  the 
ranks  were  formed  as  if  by  magic,  the  stacks  were  broken,  and 
the  human  machine  stood  there  in  its  completeness,  ready  to 
move  and  to  act  at  the  command  of  its  master.  The  cavalrv, 
as  I  could  see  by  the  fitful  glare  of  the  fires,  were  standing 
by  their  horses,  a  squad  mounted  and  rode  off  in  the  darkness, 
the  guns  of  the  horse-battery  were  limbered  up,  and  the  drivers 
and  gunners  stood  at  their  posts.  Again  the  spiteful  rattle 
of  small -arms  was  heard,  and  flashes  of  fire  sparkled  in  the 
distance  like  fire-flies. 

But  our  rest,  although  thus  rudely  broken,  was  not  to  be 
further  disturbed  that  night,  for  the  fire  in  our  front  gradually 
diminished  and  moved  away  from  us  over  to  our  right,  where 
for  a  few  moments  it  increased  again  rapidly,  until  quite  a  sharp 
engagement  seemed  to  be  in  progress  at  the  outposts  over 
a  mile  or  so  from  us.  This,  too,  died  away  in  a  short  time, 
a  messenger  from  our  front  reported  everything  quiet  again' 
in  all  directions,  and  the  sleepy  soldiers  once  more  sought  their 
resting-places,  to  snatch  a  few  moments  more  repose  before  the 
dawn,  for  it  was  now  well  on  into  the  "  wee  sma'  hours."  For 
the  life  of  me  I  could  not  sleep  any  more,  so  I  rested  quietly 
on  my  back,  watching  the  waning  fire  and  the  recumbent  forms 

7 


98 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND   DRAGOONS. 


of  the  soldiers  in  the  ring.  Strong,  heavily  framed  young 
peasants  most  of  them,'  though  here  and  there  the  more  refined 
features  of  some  "  Freiwilliger,"  or  volunteer  from  the  higher 
classes  of  society,  were  distinguishable,  in  spite  of  the  coarse 
private's  uniform.  Now  and  again  one  or  another  among 
the  men  stirred  or  muttered  something  in  his  sleep,  while 
two  or  three,  who,  like  myself,  were  unable  to  again  close 
their  eyes  in  slumber,  sat  or  stood  before  the  fire,  smoking 
and  talking  in  undertones. 


^^^K\  ^|#rf;;  l?il?9^f  • 


&T^' 


With  the  first  rosy  blushes  of  the  dawn  the  men  began  to 
rise,  and  before  the  sun  was  fairly  over  the  horizon  the  place 
was  all  astir  with  preparations  for  the  early  breakfast  of  rye- 
bread  and  coffee.  The  rough  camp  toilet  was  quickly  made 
— in  my  own  case  by  cold  water  poured  over  my  head  and 
face  from  a  bucket  in  the  ready  hands  of  a  good-natured,  grin- 
ning soldier  —  and  having  hastily  drunk  our  coffee,  we  were 
soon  on  the  march  to  rejoin  the  main  body. 


A   NIGHT   WITH    THE   FOURTH    CORPS. 


99 


As  we  moved  we  saw  the  columns  of  our  cavalry  advan- 
cing, while  in  front  of  their  late  bivouacs  the  infantry  and  ar- 
tillery were  massing,  and  by  the  occasional  shout  that  rose 
from  the  different  battalions  we  knew  that  the  general  com- 
manding, sturdy  old  von  Blumenthal  himself,  was  making  his 
morning  rounds.  Our  battalion  was  drawn  up  in  a  field  as  the 
grim  old  soldier,  accompanied  by  a  modest -looking  staff  and 
a  few  orderlies,  rode  up,  and  with  a  touch  of  the  peak  of  his 
scarlet  banded  fatigue-cap,  gave  us  in  a  strong,  clear  voice  his 
"  Guten  Morgen !"  As  with  one  voice,  the  ringing  answer, 
"  Guten  Morgen,  Excellenz !"  burst  from  the  men,  and  the 
white-haired  chief  rode  slowly  down  the  lines,  his  sharp  eyes 
scanning  the  motionless  ranks,  all  glittering  in  the  glory  of  the 
morning  sun. 

Then  words  of  command  were  heard  from  the  heads  of  the 
various  regiments,  the  troops  began  to  move,  and  the  roads 
on  all  sides  were  soon  covered  with  columns  upon  columns 
of  marching  soldiery.  Up  against  the  sky  on  the  heights  before 
us  we  could  see  artillery  going  into  battery.  A  moment  later 
a  white  cloud  burst  out  from  the  dark  group,  followed  by  the 
distant  boom  of  the  gun,  and  the  work  of  the  day  had 
commenced. 


Q^-, 


i:^       . 


Co7rfeyet  to  Vie  stable ,  ^s~fast  as  you're  tiMe,  hmer  yoor  AorseS 


an  uyii^e  em  some  corn   7vr  if  you  doiitcOj  ttZ   T^e  Co?oneI  m?/ JenowTt 

^nct  tlfen  yoi/i,//J/ri/e  '^!7?s^re  asyoJjrlcm, 


UN ITED    STATES 

ACROSS   COUNTRY  WITH  A  CAVALRY  COLUMN 


ACROSS  COUNTRY  WITH  A  CAVALRY  COLUMN. 


HE  day's  march  has  been  just  long  enough 
to  make  one  comfortably  tired,  and  the 
bountiful  dinner  which  the  "Emperor" — 
the  skilful  soldier  cook  to  the  headquar- 
ters mess  —  had  set  before  us  an  hour 
ago  having  been  duly  discussed,  we  feel  a 
quiet  satisfaction  with  everything  and  ev- 
erybody as  we  lie  stretched  on  the  soft 
grass  or  lounge  in  camp-stools  before 
our  tents,  lazily  puffing  at  our  cigars  and 
pipes,  and  enjoying  the  calm  of  the  even- 
ing. Before  us  run  the  rows  of  roomy 
"  Sibley "  tents  of  the  different  troops  of 
cavalry  that  compose  our  command,  re- 
lieving against  the   bushes   of  wild  roses 


and  willows  lining  the  banks  of  the 
dancing,  singing,  merry  little  stream  by 
which  the  camp  is  pitched,  and  rolling  in  soft  undulations  on 
all  sides  the  prairie  stretches  far  away  to  the  distant  foot-hills, 
rising  in  gently  rounded  forms  to  the  snow-capped  mountains 
that  bound  the  horizon.  The  horses,  munching  their  even- 
ing allowance   of  grain,  stand  in  long  lines,  tethered'  to   ropes 


lo6  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

stretched  along  and  pinned  at  intervals  to  the  ground  by 
huge  iron  pegs,  or  run  from  wagon  to  wagon,  as  the  fancy 
or  habit  of  the  company  commander  directs,  while  the  sol- 
diers are  busied  with  curry-comb  and  brush  grooming  them 
under  the  watchful  eyes  of  the  sergeants.  Huge  mess -chests, 
bags  of  grain,  cooking  utensils  black  with  the  smoke  of 
many  a  fire,  lie  about,  and  some  of  the  men  are  engaged  in 
arranging  the  saddles  and  equipments.  Through  the  open 
flaps  of  one  of  the  tents  the  bedding  of  the  soldiers  can  be 
seen  spread  in  a  circle  on  the  ground,  the  gray  blankets 
neatly  folded,  while  around  the  pole  in  the  centre  hang  car- 
bines and  cartridge  -  filled  prairie  belts,  surmounted  by  a  lan- 
tern swinging  by  a  cord,  and  as  yet  unlighted.  Back  of  the 
tents  huge  fires  are  crackling  and  blazing  merrily,  the  smoke 
from  them  rising  straight  upward  in  the  still  air,  the  com- 
pany cooks  busied  about  them,  clearing  away  after  the  even- 
ing meal,  or  relishing  some  tidbit  reserved  from  the  general 
fare  for  their  own  private  benefit,  as,  being  cooks,  they  no 
doubt  feel  to  be  one  of  the  privileges  of  their  position. 
Coming  towards  the  camp,  and  moving  in  a  cloud  of  dust, 
yellow  as  the  purest  gold  in  the  last  long  rays  of  the  setting 
sun,  the  wagon  mules  are  being  driven  in  from  pasture,  and 
their  discordant  braying  and  the  shouts  of  the  teamsters 
mingle  harshly  with  the  clanging  notes  of  the  trumpets, 
which  now  begin  to  sound  the  "assembly."  We  watch  the 
companies  "  fall  in  "  in  front  of  their  respective  quarters,  and 
the  details  for  the  new  guard  assemble,  for,  being  in  the 
field  and  on  the  march,  and  an  early  start  being  the  order 
of  the  day,  the  guard  is  mounted  in  the  evening  instead  of 
in  the  morning,  as  is  the  custom  in  garrison.  Guard -mount- 
ino:  does  not  take  lono;  in  this  case,  althoufj^h  it  is  thorouoh 
enough    in    all    its   detail    under   the    vigilance    of   the    experi- 


ACROSS    COUNTRY  WITH    A    CAVALRY    COLUMN.         107 

enced  and  soldierly  adjutant,  and  when  the  last  notes  of  "  re- 
treat "  die  away  the  various  officers  come  forward  from  their 
places  in  front  of  their  commands,  and,  hands  raised  to  hat 
in  salute,  give  the  short  official  report  of,  "  Such  and  such  a 
company  present  or  accounted  for."  Turning  to  the  com- 
manding officer,  who  with  the  rest  of  us  has  been  enjoying 
his  cigar  in  front  of  his  quarters,  the  old  and  new  officer  of 
the  day  respectively  makes  his  report  and  receives  his  in- 
structions, the  guard  is  marched  off,  the  adjutant  unbuckles 
his  heavy  sabre,  and,  lighting  his  pipe,  joins  our  little  group, 
and  the  camp  settles  down  to  the  quiet  repose  so  well 
earned  by  the  day's  work. 

The  sun  has  disappeared  long  ago  now,  but  the  soft  twi- 
light of  the  far  north-western  summer  lingers  yet.  The  snow 
on  the  distant  peaks  glows  with  a  faint  rosy  flush,  gradually 
dying  away ;  in  the  clear,  transparent  atmosphere  the  giant 
mountains  stand  out  in  strongly  marked  black  masses  against 
the  sky,  from  which  bright  stars  are  already  shining  down 
upon  us.  Fresh  and  sweet  the  fragrance  of  the  wild  roses 
floats  in  the  air,  and  the  little  stream  seems  to  sjather  new 
life  as  the  shades  of  evening  fall  about  us,  and  it  ripples 
musically  along  over  its  sandy  bed.  Slowly,  almost  imper- 
ceptibly, the  gloom  of  night  approaches,  the  air  grows  de- 
cidedly cooler,  and  we  are  glad  to  wrap  our  great -coats  about 
us,  and  to  draw  up  to  the  generous  blaze  of  the  roaring  cot- 
ton-wood fire  in  front  of  the  general's  quarters.  In  the  other 
tents  the  lanterns  have  been  lighted,  and  we  can  see  the 
forms  of  the  occupants  outlined  in  sharply  cut  shadows 
against  the  luminous  canvas,  and  hear  the  subdued  murmur 
of  their  voices,  with  now  and  then  a  laugh.  In  one  tent 
down  the  line  there,  there  seems  to  be  a  merry  party  gath- 
ered together,  to  judge  from  the  squeaky  notes  of  an  accord- 


lo8  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

eon  and  the  rattle  of  a  pair  of  "  bones,"  accompanying  some 
amateur  minstrel  in  the  rendering  of  a  comic  song,  while 
under  another  canvas  a  pair  of  "boys  in  blue"  are  engaged' 
in  an  animated  discussion,  which  threatens  to  wax  warm,  until 
the  warning  growl  of  some  passing  non-commissioned  officer 
puts  an  abrupt  end  to  the  conversation. 

Gradually  our  party  around  the  fire  is  increased  by  the 
arrival  of  other  ofTficers  from  their  cjuarters  down  the  line, 
until  a  large  and  merry  circle  surrounds  the  cheerful  blaze. 
The  conversation  becomes  general,  and  the  great  flames, 
lighting  up  the  animated  countenances  of  the  speakers,  and 
reflected  a  hundred  times  in  the  bright  buttons  of  their  uni- 
forms, cast  great  shadows  back  from  the  dark  figures  up  to 
the  walls  of  the  tents  in  our  rear,  that  are  glowing  in  the 
warm  light,  the  more  intensely  so  from  the  blackness  of  the 
gloom  behind  them.  And  strong  and  manly  faces  they  are 
that  gleam  in  the  fire-light  —  from  our  chief,  seated  in  his 
camp-chair,  wrapped  in  his  cape,  and  the  snows  of  forty  years 
of  active  service  in  field  and  garrison  crowning  his  head ; 
from  the  merry-hearted  junior  major,  with  his  twinkling  eyes 
and  laughter-provoking  jokes  and  yarns ;  the  stalwart  adjutant, 
stretching  his  great  frame  on  the  grass,  puffing  at  his  cigar 
and  chuckling  at  the  sallies  of  his  senior,  down  to  the  young 
subaltern  fresh  from  the  discipline  of  West  Point,  and  on  his 
first  service  in  the  field.  The  good-humored,  w^eather-beaten 
face  of  the  trusty  scout  and  guide  beams  out  from  under  the 
great  flapping  brim  of  his  felt  hat  as  he  tells  with  modest 
and  homely  eloquence  of  many  a  brave  deed  and  stirring 
adventure  in  the  Virginia  mountains  and  on  the  Western 
frontier  under  his  gallant  leader  Sheridan  ;  and  the  grim, 
cjuiet  humor  of  the  senior  major,  our  second  in  command — a 
brave   and   unassuming  soldier,  whose   bloody   encounters   with 


'  TAPS. 


ACROSS    COUNTRY  WITH    A    CAVALRY    COLUMN.        i  1 1 

the  savage  foe  of  the  pioneer  form  part  of  the  history  of  the 
great  North-west — calls  forth  an  occasional  hearty  laugh  from 
the  circle  about  the  fire.  He  will  be  Ions;  and  kindlv  re- 
membered  by  his  comrades.  He  has  made  his  report  to  the 
Great  Captain  since  then,  and  has  joined  the  grand  army  of 
the  dead.     Rcqiiiescat  in  pace  ! 

With  the  sad,  sweet  strains  of  "  taps  "  rising  in  the  night 
air  our  party  begins  to  disperse.  The  lights  in  the  men's 
tents  2:0  out,  the  hum  of  their  voices  ceases.  One  or  two 
of  us  still  linger  a  moment  by  the  glowing  embers,  loath  to 
leave,  and  taking  the  last  puffs  at  our  cigars;  but  soon  we, 
too,  seek  the  shelter  of  our  canvas  houses,  and  c{uiet  reigns 
in  the  little  command.  Our  companion,  whose  hospitable 
tent  we  share,  is  asleep  as  soon  as  his  head  touches  his  pil- 
low, but  we  still  lie  a  few  moments  in  our  warm  buffalo- 
robes,  watching  the  stars  through  the  circular  opening  in  the 
roof  of  the  tent.  We  can  hear  the  rushing  of  the  water  and 
the  slow  tramp  of  a  sentry,  now  fading  away  in  the  distance, 
now  coming  nearer,  as  he  paces  up  and  down  his  beat,  until 
our  eyelids  close,  and  we  sink  into  a  deep  and  dreamless 
slumber. 

"  Trata,  tarata!  I  can't  get  'em  up,  I  can't  get  'em  up,  I 
can't  get  'em  up  in  the  mo-or-ning!"  The  trumpets  are  ring- 
ing out  in  a  lively  manner,  "  tata- taraing "  and  clamoring 
away  fit  to  wake  the  Seven  Sleepers,  and  we  spring  up,  broad 
awake  at  once.  That  is,  we  ourselves  are  broad  awake 
enough,  for  those  leathern -lunged  trumpeters  are  raising  a 
tremendous  racket,  but  our  companion,  on  whom  the  regular 
recurrence  of  the  same  din  every  morning  for  a  dozen  years 
or  more  has  had  the  effect  of  hardening  his  nerves,  wants  to 
know,  with  a  little  "  d — "  such  as  the  captain  of  the  Pina- 
fore may    have    used,  whether  "  that's    reveille    already  !"      As 


I  12 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 


if  there  could  be 
any  doubt  of  its  be- 
ing anything  else ! 
If  there  is  any- 
thing in  the  world, 
unless  it  be  the 
startlino;  alarum  of 
the  "long  roll," 
that  will  bring  a 
man  to  his  waking 
senses  in  less  time 
than  a  dozen  of 
Uncle  Sam's  trum- 
peters tooting  away 
at  reveille,  we  have 
yet  to  meet  with  it  in  our  more   or  less  limited  experience. 

How  brightly  the  sun  is  shining  as  we  unloosen  the 
cords  that  hold  the  flaps  of  our  tent  together,  and  step  out 
in  front !  Whew !  but  it  is  cold  too,  the  morning  air,  and 
the  water  in  the  tin  basin,  perched  on  the  three  stakes  driven 
upright  into  the  ground  on  one  side  of  our  temporary  abode, 
is  just  as  near  being  ice  as  it  can  be,  and  yet  remain  in  a 
fluid  state.  Two  or  three  tents  down  the  line  the  cheery 
junior  major  is  polishing  his  face  with  a  rough  towel  till  it 
shines  again,  and  his  jolly,  hearty  "  Good -morning!"  greets  us 
cordially  as  soon  as  we  make  our  appearance.  All  is  life 
and  bustle  over  among  the  men  as  they  go  trooping  off, 
some,  tin  cup  and  platter  in  hand,  for  breakfast  and  the 
steaming  hot  coffee  that  the  cooks  are  already  preparing, 
some  to  look  after  the  horses  or  to  make  a  hasty  toilet  by 
the  stream,  the  dogs,  of  which  we  have  several  in  the  com- 
mand, barking   and  jumping   up   to    their   masters   with   morn- 


ACROSS    COUNTRY   WITH    A    CAVALRY   COLUMN.         113 

ino-  sreetinss,  or  foracrinQr   around  the  mess  tents  in  search  of 
a  stray  bone   or  other  such   luxury.      The   horses   and  mules, 
refreshed    by    the    night's    rest,  are    neighing    and    stamping, 
awaiting  the  coming  meal,  "  stable  call "  having  been  sounded 
immediately  after  reveille,  and   the   men   are    attending  to  the 
wants   of   their  trusty  four-footed   friends.      It   does   not   take 
us  long  to  make  our  toilet  and  to  pack  our  valises,  ready  for 
our  "  strikers "  to    take    away   to    the    baggage  -  wagons.      The 
"Emperor"  announces,  "  Sheneral,  preakvast  is   retty,  sir,"  and 
each    of    us   bringing  whatever  we    can    lay   our  hands   on   in 
the  way  of  a  seat,  from  a  camp-chair  to  a  cracker-box,  we  are 
soon  assembled  around  the  little  table  in  the  mess  tent,  which 
is  groaning  under  the   weight   of  the   bountiful   breakfast   the 
"Emperor"  has   laid   upon   it.      An   antelope   steak,  some  friz- 
zled beef,  trout  (fresh  caught),  fried  potatoes,  coffee  fit  for  the 
gods,  with  condensed  milk  in  lieu  of  cream— everything  smok- 
ing hot  and   in   lavish   profusion.      When   we   look   at   the   di- 
minutive field -stove,  from   the   oven   of  which  the  "Emperor" 
has   just  taken   out  a  pan  full  of  the   jolliest- looking  biscuits, 
smoking  and  smiling  through  the  cracks  of  their  brown  faces, 
just   inviting   one    to    eat    them,  we    wonder   how   in   the    mis- 
chief  he    does    it   all,  and   where   he   gets   the   good   things   to 
eat  out  there  in   the  wilderness,  where   there   is   not   a  human 
being  outside   of   our  command  for  miles   and  miles,  with  the 
exception,  perhaps,  of  some  ranging  cowboys  or  prowling  Ind- 
ians.     However,  we    look   our   approval  —  our   mouths   are   too 
full  for  utterance — and  the  "  Emperor,"  who  rarely  smiles,  sig- 
nifies his  appreciation  of  our  enjoyment  of  his  skill  by  bring- 
ing us   a  fresh   cup   of  fragrant   coffee,  with  the   remark  that, 
"  Dot   gup    you    got   vas   shtandin'    so    long  he   get  gold,  und 
goffee  iss  not  goot  ven  he  issn't  hot." 

Breakfast  over,  we  make  ready  for  the  day's  march.     The 
8 


114 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 


camp  presents  a  most  animated  scene.  The  tents  are  already 
down,  and  the  details  are  busy  rolling  them  up  ready  for 
transportation  ;  our  bedding,  neatly  rolled  and  strapped,  lies 
alongside  our  valises,  and  is  being  rapidly  transferred  to  the 
wagon,  which,  drawn  by  its  six  sturdy  mules,  has  been  driven 
up  while  we  were  at  breakfast.  Our  saddles  are  packed  and 
placed  upon  our  horses,  the  orderlies  standing  at  their  heads 
with  their  own  mounts  alongside  of  them.  The  "  Emperor's  " 
tent  and  stove  disappear  like  magic  ;  all 
over  the  field  the  blue -coats  are  busy 
as    bees,  some     staggering    under 


loads  of  canvas,  dragging 
up  heavy  mess  -  chests, 
on    the 


huge 


mountinor 
wagons  and 


great 


'^/  '^i^ 


ft 


^g^^ 


the  various  neccssaiy  ar- 
ticles foi  camp  use,  while 
the  officLis  supei intend 
their  movements,  some- 
times even  lending  a  helping  hand.  Although,  the  scene  is 
such  a  busy  one,  and  the  men  are  hurrying  to  and  fro,  work- 
ing like  beavers,  there  is  no  confusion ;  everything  is  conduct- 
ed with  the  utmost  order  and  celerity,  and  in  an  incredibly 
short  space  of  time  the  wagons  are  loaded  and  ready  for 
the  road.  Our  young  quartermaster  is  already  on  horseback.. 
He   has   received   his   orders  for  the  march,  and  under  his  di- 


ACROSS   COUNTRY   WITH    A   CAVALRY    COLUMN.        115 


rections  the  wagon- master   is  at- 
tending   to    the   last    details,  and 

srettino^     the     waQ-ons     into     line.  -       _-^-^_- 

The  soldiers    of    the    guard,  who  ---  S 

form  the  escort   to  the  train,  are 

standing  by  their  horses,  ready  to  mount.  "  Boots  and  sad- 
dles "  has  been  sounded,  and  the  troops  stand  near  their  flut- 
tering guidons,  ofificers  in  their  front,  awaiting  the  command 
to  march. 

It  must  be  confessed  they  look  a  rather  motley  assem- 
blage for  regular  troops,  as  they  lounge  there  in  picturesque 
groups,  and  their  uniforms  certainly  are  rather  shabby  in  ap- 
pearance. The  majority  wear  the  slouched  felt  hat  issued  to 
our  troops  by  the  Quartermaster's  Department,  ungraceful  in 
shape  but  comfortable  and  admirably  suited  for  the  rough 
service  of  the  frontier.  There  are  some  with  the  more  jaunty 
forage-cap,  and  one  man  wears  a  civilian's  straw  hat  perched 
on  the  back  of  his  head.  If  you  walk  down  through  the 
different  squadrons  you  can  see  that  the  men  are  about  the 
middle  height,  sturdy  and  healthy,  the  majority  of  them  unmis- 
takably of  American  birth,  but  there  is  a  strong  sprinkling  of 
Germans  and  Irishmen  among  them.  Some  have  gayly  col- 
ored handkerchiefs  knotted  about  their  necks — one  strapping 


Il6  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

fellow,  whose  whole  countenance  betrays  his  origin,  wearing  a 
bright  green  silk  scarf,  typical  of  the  land  that  gave  him  birth. 
The  officers,  too,  have  not  put  on  their  "  best  clothes  "  for  this 
prairie  campaigning.  Most  of  them  wear  white  sun -helmets, 
but  there  are  two  or  three  of  them  with  the  old  regulation 
slouched  hat,  and  one  straight,  fine -looking  young  gentleman 
wears  a  great,  broad-brimmed  "  cow-boy  "  hat  pulled  down  over 
his  eyes.  We  cannot  help  smiling  as  we  think  of  what  the 
astonishment  of  some  of  our  European  friends  —  the  natty 
English  artilleryman,  the  dashing  French  chasseur,  or  closely 
buttoned,  precise  German  dragoon  —  would  be,  could  they  be 
dropped  down  here  in  front  of  this  command,  and  how  they 
would  inwardly  comment  in  no  very  favorable  terms  on  the 
appearance  of  Uncle  Sam's  troopers  in  the  field.  And  we  can- 
not help  but  ask,  and  we  do  so  in  all  good  feeling,  would  it 
not,  without  cari-ying  the  "  pomp  and  circumstance  "  of  military 
life  to  the  extreme  that  our  more  warlike  neighbors  do,  be  of 
equal  practical  benefit  to  the  comfort  and  health  of  the  soldier, 
and  more  productive  of  a  feeling  of  soldierly  self-respect,  if  a 
little  more  uniformity,  a  little  more  attention  to  details,  and 
greater  regard  for  appearance,  even  in  the  field,  and  on  such 
rough  service  as  our  little  army,  unlike  the  European  services, 
is  so  constantly  engaged  in,  were  insisted  on. 

The  trumpet  sounds.  As  if  an  electric  shock  had  trav- 
ersed the  assemblage,  the  scattered  groups  form  in  serried 
ranks.  Another  trumpet  blast.  Like  one  man  they  rise  into 
their  saddles  and  sit  motionless.  Still  another  signal,  and  like 
a  machine  started  by  some  invisible  power  the  column  moves. 
Let  us,  too,  mount  and  ride  across  the  prairie,  till  we  reach 
the  head  of  the  column,  swinging  out  now  and  following  the 
course  of  the  little  stream ;  we  can  stop  a  moment  and  let  it 
pass.     In   spite   of   the   guerilla  like   and   careless   look   of  the 


THE   MARCH   OUT. 


ACROSS    COUNTRY   WITH    A   CAVALRY   COLUMN.         119 

men,  one  cannot  help  but  admire  the  soldierly  ease  and  grace 
with  which  they  sit  in  their  saddles,  ranks  well  aligned,  shoul- 
ders squared,  heads  erect,  eyes  to  the  front,  their  harness  and 
equipments  shining  in  the  sunlight,  not  a  buckle  or  strap 
out  of  place,  carbines  clean,  and  swinging  at  their  sides  ready 
for  immediate  use,  brass  -  shelled  cartridges  peeping  from  the 
well -filled  prairie  belts,  horses  and  riders  moving  with  the 
quiet  and  orderly  precision  that  long  training  and  constant 
habits  of  discipline  alone  can  create.  And  the  horses !  Did 
you  ever  see  better  mounts?  See  that  troop  of  sorrels  that 
is  just  now  passing!  They  have  been  in  the  field  for  weeks, 
and  have  passed  through  stream  and  canon,  over  plain  and 
desert,  through  thick  alkali  dust  and  sticky  mud,  yet  how 
their  coats  glisten,  and  how  proudly  they  arch  their  necks 
and  champ  their  bits,  moving  along  at  a  rapid  walk,  guided 
by  the  firm  pressure  of  the  practised  hands  of  their  well- 
drilled  riders !  Though  the  uniforms  are  dim  and  weather- 
beaten,  though  the  harness  and  saddlery  are  of  the  simplest 
description,  with  little  or  no  attempt  at  ornamentation,  do  not 
men  and  horses  look  ready  for  instant  work,  and  work,  too,  of 
the  most  serious  kind  ?  And  well  have  they  proved  by  man}^ 
a  hard  ride,  by  many  a  wakeful  night,  with  hunger  and  thirst, 
and  the  exposure  to  the  pitiless  blasts  of  many  a  Northern 
winter,  harder  to  contend  ao^ainst  than  their  sava2:e  adversaries 
of  the  wilderness,  their  readiness  at  all  times ;  for  this  is  a  fa- 
mous regiment,  and  their  motto  of  "  Toujours  pret !"  which  they 
proudly  bear  is  no  idle  boast. 

Column  of  route  !  Winding  over  the  trackless  prairie 
through  the  gray  sage-brush,  a  thin  blue  thread  in  the  im- 
mense space  about  it,  the  command  moves  out.  Prairie,  more 
prairie,  still  more  prairie  on  every  side,  until  lost  and  melting 
into  the  horizon,  except  where,  directly  in  the  front,  the  distant 


I20 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 


.-;. '-:v'  mountains    rise.      No  sign  of  life  relieves   the   mo- 

0ik'  -  notony    of    the    scene,  except,  perhaps,  an    oc- 

7i(^-'-'f''9f  ^       ■  .  ill' 

\^^^^^h^^'  casional     coyote     away    in    the    dis- 

(^l^iM^&A^^  «  ^  -.-  ^^"ce   sneaking  off 

shelter,  or 


the  prairie-dogs 
popping  into  their 
burrows  with  shrill  bark>  of  alarm 
and  defiance  as  we  pass.     Now  and  again 
the  bleached  skull  and  black  hoi  ns 
of  some  defunct  buffalo  give  si- 
lent token  of  the  count- 
less herds  that  but 
so   short    a 
time  ago 


7^^^'  f.. 


"^^  i 


roamed 
unrestrain- 
ed     across 
these      bound- 
less plains.     The 
sun     rises     higher 
and     higher    in     the 
heavens,  beating    down 
upon      us     with     pitiless 
rays,  and  dazzling  our  eyes 
with  its   brilliant  light.      The 


^-  m- 


ACROSS    COUNTRY   WITH   A    CAVALRY  COLUMN.         123 

alkali  dust  stirred  up  by  the  beat  of  the  horses'  hoofs  hangs 
over  the  column  in  thick,  stifling  clouds,  making  eyes  and  nos- 
trils tingle,  and  almost  shutting  out  from  view  the  squadrons 
ahead  of  us ;  now  and  then  we  can  see  the  silken  folds  of 
their  guidons  wave  languidly,  and  make  out  the  forms  of  the 
rearmost  riders.  If  there  were  only  a  breath  of  air,  ever  so 
gentle,  to  carry  the  dust -cloud  a  little  to  one  side,  and  to 
relieve  us  from  this  parching  heat !  Most  of  us  have  laid 
off  our  coats  and  are  riding  in  our  shirt- sleeves ;  some  of  the 
men  have  stripped  to  their  undershirts.  Little  is  said,  this 
choking  dust  smothering  all  desire  for  conversation,  until  we 
begin  to  feel  a  softer  pressure  under  the  horses'  feet,  and  grad- 
ually the  cloud  subsides  as  we  ride  over  and  around  some  roll- 
ing, grassy  mounds,  and  see  before  us  a  green  line  of  willow- 
brush,  indicating  the  proximity  of  water.  But  the  column 
does  not  halt,  and  pushes  on  over  the  little  yard-wide  stream, 
as  we  find  its  waters  so  impregnated  with  alkali  as  to  be  unfit 
for  use. 

Prairie  again  all  around  us,  but  more  rolling,  and  covered 
with  long,  waving  grass ;  in  the  distance  clumps  of  bright-green 
cotton-w-oods.  We  halt  for  a  moment  on  the  brow  of  a  high 
butte  to  rest  our  heated  horses  and  throw  ourselves  down  in 
the  soft  grass.  Some  one  has  been  provident  enough  to  save 
a  canteen  full  of  coffee,  and  from  this  w^e  have  a  refreshing 
draught,  and,  with  cigarettes  lighted,  enjoy  our  short  rest  to  the 
utmost.  Ahead  of  us,  on  the  top  of  the  next  butte,  we  can 
see  the  staff  reclining  on  the  grass.  The  major  has  evidently 
been  "  at  it "  again,  for  we  can  hear  the  hearty  laugh  of  the 
adjutant  as  he  rises,  and  the  staff- trumpeter  sounds  the  order 
to  mount  again,  and  away  we  go  brushing  through  the  high 
grass.  We  are  comparatively  free  from  dust  now,  and  although 
the   sun   shoots   down   its   fiercest  heat   as   the  hour  of  noon 


124  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND   DRAGOONS. 

passes,  we  can  bear  it  more  easily.  The  eye,  too,  is  refreshed 
by  the  wonderful  color  of  the  rolling  hills  far  in  our  front, 
where  the  millions  of  wild  flowers  covering  their  smoothly 
rounded  sides  blend  their  bright  hues  harmoniously  in  strong 
contrast  with  the  deep-blue  shadows  of  the  mountains.  As 
we  near  the  cotton -woods  the  rushing  of  a  stream  is  heard, 
and  we  are  soon  standing  on  its  high  banks,  looking  down 
upon  the  swift -flowing  torrent.  The  signal  to  let  our  horses 
drink  is  given,  and  we  scramble  down  the  steep  sides  and  ford 
the  rapid  current,  rising  almost  up  to  our  knees  as  we  sit  in 
our  saddles ;  the  thirsty  brutes  suck  in  the  sweet  water,  cooled 
by  the  melting  snows  in  the  distant  mountains. 

The  day  wears  on  in  this  manner;  now  we  traverse  tracts 
of  cactus  desert,  now  dip  down  through  some  sudden  break 
in  the  plain,  and  ford  streams  more  or  less  deep  and  rapid ; 
now  we  climb  over  mound-shaped  buttes  until  we  enter  a  little 
grassy  valley  in  the  foot-hills,  and  halt  there  to  await  the  ar- 
rival  of  the  wagon-train,  and  to  make  our  camp  for  the  night. 
The  horses  are  immediately  unsaddled,  hobbled,  and  driven  off 
by  companies  to  water  and  to  pasture.  The  men,  tired  by  the 
long  ride,  lie  about  in  groups,  some  dozing,  saddles  for  pillows, 
under  the  shelter  of  leafy  little  huts,  constructed  with  aston- 
ishing rapidity  from  the  pliant  branches  of  the  dwarf  willows, 
cut  with  their  sharp  sheath-knives  on  the  river  brink  hard  by. 
The  indefatigable  "  Emperor "  has  already  prepared  a  little 
"snack"  for  us  to  stay  our  appetites  until  dinner;  and  although 
it  consists  chiefly  of  the  remnants  of  the  biscuits  baked  for 
breakfast,  the  contents  of  some  round,  gaudily  labelled  tins  of 
beef  or  tongue,  with  a  taste  of  jam  or  a  pickle  for  a  relish, 
and  somethins:  from  a  field -flask  to  wash  all  down  with,  the 
most  elaborate  picnic  spread  in  the  world  could  not  have  been 
done  more  justice  to.     The  quartermaster  rides  in  just  as  we 


I 


I 


ACROSS    COUNTRY   WITH    A    CAVALRY   COLUMN. 


127 


are  lighting  our  pipes,  and  reports  the  wagons  near  at  hand. 
He  is  hot  and  thirsty,  and  falls  to  like  a  man  who  has  seen 
nothing  to  eat  or  drink  for  a  week ;  and  soon  we  hear  the 
cracking  of  the  whips,  the  braying  of  the  mules,  and  the  creak- 
ing and  groaning  of  the  wheels  as  the  long  line  of  canvas- 
covered,  heavily  laden  wagons  comes  lumbering  on  the  camp 
ground.  Speedily  the  tents  rise  in  well-ordered  lines  about 
us,  fires  are  lighted,  and  every  preparation  made  for  dinner 
and  a  comfortable  night's  rest.  Some  of  us  take  our  towels 
and  stroll  down  to  the  river  for  a  bath,  or  to  wash  some  ar- 
ticle of  clothing  with  a  piece  of  toilet  soap — laundries  being 
one  of  the  luxuries  of  civilization  which  we  have  parted  with 
some  time  ago.  The  mosquitoes  are  not  so  bad  here  this 
evening  as  they  were  a  few  days  ago  in  one  camp  we  occu- 
pied, and  one  can  bathe  with  more  or  less  comfort ;  besides, 
we  are  hardened  to  them  by  this  time  —  if  one  can  ever  be- 
come hardened  to  the  sting  of  a  Montana  mosquito  —  and 
make   a  pretence   of   looking  on   their  aggravating  onslaughts 


fift^*.^l,^> 


128  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

with  something  akin  to  philosophical  indifference.  Few  of  the 
men  are  about ;  those  not  on  duty  of  some  sort  are  mostly  in 
their  tents,  a  few  are  fishing  for  trout,  and  the  horses  and 
mules  are  grazing  quietly  on  the  hill -sides,  on  whose  tops  we 
can  see  the  mounted  figures  of  the  guards  outlined  against  the 
sky,  and  the  little  valley,  only  an  hour  or  two  ago  a  solitary 
oasis  in  the  wilderness,  already  takes  on  the  appearance  of 
havins:  been  inhabited  for  weeks. 

Days  pass  in  this  way.  We  cross  the  great  plains,  almost 
imperceptibly  reaching  a  higher  altitude  day  by  day ;  we  march 
over  the  divides  and  move  up  through  the  foot-hills,  higher 
and  higher  into  the  mountains.  Once,  under  the  shadow  of  a 
huge  mountain  peak,  we  camp  near  a  small  military  post,  the 
officers  of  which  bring  their  families  to  visit  us,  and  it  is  a 
novel  sight  to  our  eyes  to  see  delicate  and  refined  ladies  and 
pretty  little  children  seated  around  our  camp-fire,  and  listen- 
ing to  the  lively  music  of  a  really  excellent  string-band,  made 
up  from  among  the  enlisted  men.  Sometimes  the  line  of  our 
march  takes  us  through  great  caiions,  by  the  sides  of  and 
through  roaring  streams,  over  steep  and  dangerous  mountain 
trails,  where  the  wagons  often  experience  delay  and  difficulty 
in  passing. 

A  train  on  the  march  under  these  circumstances  makes  a 
picture  not  soon  to  be  forgotten.  Over  the  level  prairie  the 
wagons  rumble  along  quietly  and  smoothly  enough.  At  the 
occasional  coulees  perhaps  there  has  been  some  hard  pulling, 
but  the  patient,  strong,  willing  army  mules^ — most  unjustly  de- 
rided of  four-footed  beasts  —  have  dragged  the  heavy  wagons 
through  one  after  another,  and  the  long  line  stretches  its 
slowly  moving  length  out  over  the  prairie  again,  at  the  head 
the  quartermaster,  sometimes  some  crony,  the  doctor  perhaps, 
riding  with  him  to  keep  him   company.     By  the   sides  march 


I 


THE  HERD-GUARD. 


ACROSS    COUNTRY    WITH    A   CAVALRY    COLUMN. 

the    soldiers    of    the 

o^uard,  the    teamsters  ...''.    -  '     — 

lounge  lazily  in  ,^^==^«=;*^,^'— "-^^ ''''-^" 

their    saddles,  a  -"^^.^.^ -^^-^ ^^      ,  .-     -^^  ^ 

trooper  or       --riiil^HS 
two,  whose 

horses   have   perhaps 
gone    lame,  or    who, 
suffering  from   some  slight 
indisposition,  have  been  given 
permission   to    remain    in   the 
rear  with  the  train,  are  perch- 
ed  on    the   top   of   one    of  the 
wagons,  while  some  little  rascal 
of  a  dog  runs  up  and  down 
barking     himself     hoarse     at 
nothing  at  all. 

Suddenly    the  "  grade  " 


i^i 


W  -    \  %il  'Ml 


^j&qP'-^'  -^f''^n 


132  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

falls  abruptly  away  through  two  towering  cliffs  or  fantastically 
shaped  buttes  that  mark  the  entrance  to  a  canon,  and  the 
teamsters  drag  with  all  their  strength  on  the  straps  attached 
to  the  great  brakes  of  the  hind- wheels  as  the  heavy  wagons 
go  grinding  down  the  steep  incline,  the  mules,  sober,  sure- 
footed brutes,  slipping  over  the  loose  stones  and  scattering  a 
shower  of  pebbles  and  gravel  about  them  as  the  leading  teams 
scramble  along,  the  wheel -mules,  with  feet  braced  and  strain- 
ing back  against  their  great  collars,  sliding  after  them.  Ar- 
riving at  the  bottom  with  a  rush,  they  move  forward  again, 
wagon  after  wagon  following,  until  the  trail  widens  out  a  lit- 
tle where  a  pool  of  water  has  formed  across  it,  seemingly 
barring  further  progress.  The  quartermaster's  horse  sinks  fet- 
lock deep  in  the  sticky,  slimy  mud,  and  the  wagon -master 
shakes  his  head  as  he  looks  back  at  the  long  line  of  heavily 
laden  wagons  coming  around  the  bend  in  the  carion.  How- 
ever, on  they  must  go;  there  is  no  way  of  avoiding  the  hole; 
steep  cliffs  rise  on  each  side,  and  the  first  wagon,  following 
the  lead  of  the  wagon-master,  plunges  boldly  in.  The  mules 
strain  and  pull,  deeper  and  deeper  the  wheels  sink  into  the 
slime.  No  use!  the  mules  give  it  up;  and  once  a  mule  makes 
up  his  mind  that  it  is  useless  to  try  any  more,  no  power  on 
earth  that  we  know  of  will  make  him  proceed,  at  least  not  in 
the  desired  direction.  The  team  from  the  following  wagon  is 
unhitched  and  brought  to  their  aid.  Now  then !  crack  your 
long -lashed  whips,  teamsters!  Curse  till  the  air  is  blue! 
"  Whoop  her  up  !"  Flounder,  splash,  and  strain,  mules  !  Give 
it  up  again  until  another  team  is  brought  up.  More  cracking 
of  whips,  more  cursing,  more  splashing  and  floundering  and 
scattering  about  of  liquid  mud,  until  mules,  teamsters,  and 
wagons  are  covered  with  it,  and  look  as  if  they  were  made  of 
it.     At  last  the  wheels  slowly  move,  churning  up  great  masses 


ACROSS    COUNTRY   WITH    A    CAVALRY    COLUMN.        133 

of  the  yellow  compound  ;  another  heave  ahead,  another  stop, 
some  more  profanity  and  cracking  of  whips,  and  so  by  degrees 
they  pull  the  wagon  through  and  stand,  panting  and  hot  and 
wet,  on  the  firm  ground  on  the  other  side  of  the  "  chuck-hole/' 

But  the  rest  of  the  train  must  follow,  and  as  each  suc- 
ceeding wagon  stirs  up  the  mud  the  passage  will  be  more 
and  more  difficult.  There  is  only  one  thing  to  do.  "  We 
must  '  double-trip '  it."  The  wagons  will  have  to  be  relieved 
of  part  of  their  load,  and  to  get  everything  safely  across, 
double  trips  must  be  made.  Now  then,  all  hands !  Soldiers 
and  teamsters  bustle  about,  the  wagons  are  partially  unpacked, 
driven  over,  the  remainder  of  the  load  taken  off,  driven  back 
again  for  that  which  has  been  left,  again  dragged  through  the 
mud,  reloaded,  and  moved  on  until  the  last  wagon  is  over  and 
the  march  is  resumed.  Hours  have  passed  in  doing  this,  and 
when  the  train  reaches  the  camp-ground  it  is  already  late  in 
the  day. 

One  rainy  evening  we  stand  under  the  far-spreading  branch- 
es of  the  giant  pines  on  the  edge  of  a  forest  in  northern 
Idaho,  way  on  the  western  side  of  the  mountains,  watching  the 
passing  column  for  the  last  time,  as,  rounding  the  outskirts  of 
one  of  the  little  towns  that  have  sprung  up  like  mushrooms 
alono:side  of  the  track  of  the  Northern  Pacific,  it  moves  off 
its  camp-ground  of  the  day  before.  We  shake  hands  heartily 
with  the  officers  as  they  pass,  and  exchange  kindly  greetings 
with  many  of  the  men.  Ati  revoir,  kind  friends!  We  shall 
long  remember  our  march  with  you,  and  may  good -luck  at- 
tend you  in  your  new  quarters.  Good  -  by  !  May  we  meet 
again ! 


^n  i  b^^:4^'^'^'«I^sv?j\o/foe,  no  nam  eV?o  charged  _^    /^       'A^Jti^we'foii^ht  a 

7^ 


'^^^: 


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twelve  month  lonCanifdownid^fei-U^''^"  ';^t  ^r2)^a^3T  ^"et  with Jie  name  once 

-"^  ^'  ^  '     '  '     '  ""elieers  frau^ht-with 


■s5v^  ^et 


JvM^^j^r^^^;^ 


m=^ 


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44-d- 


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CHORUS 


woe,    The  well^nsrin^^s  for  Little  Phil   at   Henny  Havens/)^  0    Benny  Havens 

'   "  k 


j^fjKj-f^ifvif>j'ri"VijMjjji- 


0.       0  Benny  Havens. 0.  The>/ell^jj^i;i^^-ibr  Little  Phil  at  Ben-ny  Havens    0. 


T/rs.^. 


'^(^^^.r 


UNITED  STATES 

WITH  THE  BLUECOATS  ON  THE  BORDER 


THE   RIDE  THROUGH    THE   RAIN. 


WITH  THE  BLUECOATS  ON  THE  BORDER. 


IDE!  on  through  the  rush  of  the  rain 
comins:  down  in  sheets  from  the 
unbroken  gray  of  the  sky ;  on  over 
the  dreary  desolation  of  the  prairie, 
now  splashing  through  wide  pools 
of  water,  now  floundering  ankle- 
deep  through  the  thick,  tenacious 
mud  of  the  wide  trail,  not  a  living 
creature  in  sight,  nothing  but  the 
brown  grass  of  the  plains  stretch- 
ing for  miles  to  the  misty  horizon. 
Ride !  down  the  slippery  sides  of 
the  "  coulees,"  through  the  foaming 
waters  of  the  streams  swirling  and 
rushing  along  in  yellow  torrents. 
Up,  good  horses,  up  the  steep  banks,  slipping  and  stumbling 
over  rain -loosened  stones;  on  over  the  prairie  again.  Ride! 
on  towards  the  solitary  ranch  just  looming  through  the  mist 
away  beyond  there,  the  water  streaming  from  our  oil-skins, 
dripping  from  our  soft,  wide -brimmed  hats,  and  running  down 
the  flanks  of  our  tired  horses.  Ride !  on  up  to  the  wide- 
open  door  of  the   rough   mud-roofed  cabin,  its   two  lonely  in- 


142  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND  DRAGOONS. 

habitants  —  flannel -shirted,  heavily  booted  government  team- 
sters— standing  expectantly  in  front.  Rustle,  boys,  rustle  !  fresh 
horses  to  carry  us  on  to  the  distant  river  and  to  the  boat  that 
is  to  take  us  back  again  to  home  and  friends — our  only  chance, 
perhaps,  for  days,  if  not  weeks,  for  the  season  is  late,  and  the 
river  falling  in  spite  of  the  heavy  rains.  The  brimming  cup 
of  sweet  warm  milk,  handed  to  us  with  ready  hospitality,  fresh 
from  the  cows  standing  in  the  fenced  -  off  space  behind  the 
ranch,  we  drink  thankfully,  and  then  on  again  through  the 
steadily  increasing  downpour  of  the  rain.  Ride !  through  the 
rows  of  sage-brush,  glistening  silvery  blue  in  the  wet,  onward 
and  still  onward,  to  the  bare  hills  miles  in  front  of  us,  beyond 
which  we  know  the  river  is  swiftly  flowing.  Ride !  guided  by 
the  endless  line  of  poles  supporting  the  military  telegraph  line 
that  runs  from  the  lonely  frontier  garrison  we  rode  out  from 
at  daybreak  this  morning.  Ride  !  past  the  long  train  of  wag- 
ons, creeping  slowly  towards  us,  drawn  by  their  patient,  long- 
horned  "bull  teams,"  and  freighted  with  supplies  for  Uncle 
Sam's  "  boys  in  blue,"  some  of  whom,  trudging  along  through 
the  mud,  or  peering  at  us  from  under  the  canvas  covering  of 
the  foremost  wagon,  wave  their  hats  in  greeting  to  us.  A 
mounted  officer — rubber-coated,  glistening  wet  —  hails  us,  and 
wheeling  his  horse  about,  gallops  alongside  of  us,  with  polite 
request  to  forward  a  forgotten  message  to  the  little  outpost  we 
are  bound  for.  Thanking  us,  and  with  hearty  "  good-by,  good- 
luck,"  he  canters  back  again,  riding  with  the  free,  easy,  firm 
seat  of  the  American  cavalryman ;  and  "  slacking  not  speed  nor 
drawing  rein,"  we  turn  to  look  back  at  the  already  distant 
wagons  as  they  wind  along  the  trail,  their  white  covers  almost 
melting  into  the  prevailing  moist  gray  of  the  atmosphere,  and 
relieving  only  against  the  dark  expanse  of  prairie.  Ride !  up 
through   gently   rising   openings   in   the  hills    now,  their  bare, 


.  > 


HURRAH  !    THE  WILD  MISSOURI  ! 


WITH    THE    BLUECOATS    ON   THE    BORDER.  145 

rugged  sides  rising  high  above  us,  the  rills  of  water  rushing 
down  them  seaming  and  scarring  them,  and  spreading  deep 
sloughs  of  red,  sticky  mud  in  our  way.  Push  on  !  the  pant- 
ing horses  climb  steadily  upward,  the  trail  grows  rougher  and 
rougher,  the  mud  adheres  to  the  hoofs,  we  are  covered  with  it 
from  head  to  foot,  save  where  the  rain  washes  out  little,  bare, 
shining  trails  down  the  folds  of  our  rubber  great-coats.  Ride ! 
upward  and  still  upward,  now  rounding  some  queer  tower- 
shaped  mass  of  sandstone,  now  sliding  down  some  steep  little 
descent,  horses  with  all  four  feet  together,  haunches  almost 
touching  the  ground,  bringing  up  in  a  miniature  sea  of  mud 
at  the  bottom,  floundering  through  and  climbing  upward  aoain. 
Ride !  hour  after  hour,  until  with  a  final  spurt  we  cross  the 
butte  in  front  of  us,  and  there  —  broad,  curving  gracefully 
through  the  deep  valley  below,  shining  like  purest  silver  in  a 
sudden  burst  of  light  that  breaks  through  the  cloud  masses 
above  —  there  flows  the  "Wild  Missouri."  Hurrah!  on  once 
more !  down  the  hill-side  and  out  over  the  short  stretch  of 
green  plain  to  the  brink  of  the  stream,  and  wet,  dead  tired, 
hungry,  and  thirsty,  we  pull  up  our  smoking,  panting  horses  at 
the  log-cabin  of  the  soldier  telegraph  operator,  beyond  which, 
nestling  in  the  shelter  of  cotton -wood  and  willow  trees,  gleam 
the  white  walls  of  half  a  dozen  tents,  marking  the  camp  of 
the  little  detachment  of  bluecoats,  a  solitary  outpost  of  the 
garrison  forty  miles  back  of  us  over  the  prairie. 

"  No  boat  yet,  but  expect  it  every  hour.  Telegraphed  at 
4  A.M.  from  above.  Probably  stuck  on  a  sand-bar.  Water 
pretty  low,  and  navigation  slow.  ComiC  and  take  something !" — 
which  hospitable  offer  of  the  young  subaltern  commanding  the 
camp,  wet  and  chilled  through  as  we  are,  is  gratefully  accepted, 
and  we  make  ourselves  as  comfortable  as  the  prevailing  damp- 
ness and  the  mosquitoes  will  permit.  With  the  gatherino- 
10 


146 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 


shades  of  evening,  and  as  the  storm-clouds  are  drifting  away, 
a  distant  throbbing  sound  breaks  through  the  cahn  air,  and  si- 
multaneously with  the  long-drawn  cry  of,  "  Stea-ea-eambo-o-oat !" 
from  the  blue-coated  loungers  on  the  bank,  the  long  expected 
stern -wheeler,  its  high  chimneys  rolling  out  volumes  of  smoke 
and  showers  of  bright  sparks,  flashing  like  fire -flies  in  the 
gloaming,  glides  slowly  into  view,  and  with  much  ringing  of 
bells  from  the  pilot-house,  and  much  vociferation  and  hard 
cursing  from  a  very  energetic  and  hoarse -voiced  mate,  comes 
to  a  stop  alongside  the  bank,  and  is  made  fast  by  stout  haw- 
sers to  convenient  trees.  Bidding  farewell  to  our  kindly  young 
host,  we  seek  "  the  seclusion  that  our  cabin  grants,"  and  soon 
forget  the  fatigue  and  discomforts  of  the  day  in  deep  and 
refreshing  slumber. 

Early  the  next  morning,  with  the  first  light  of  day,  our 
journey  down  the  great  river  begins.  Onward,  day  after  day, 
we  steam  through  the  wilderness,  traversing  scenes  of  weird 
desolation    and    savage    beauty.      On   through   the   great   high 


A  soldier's  welcome. 


WITH    THE    BLUECOATS    ON    THE    BORDER. 


149 


hills  rising  abruptly  from  the  water's  edge ;  on  through  the 
"  Bad  Lands,"  with  the  strange,  fantastically  shaped  "  buttes  " 
and  turreted  heights,  pile  upon  pile,  brightly  colored  in  bands 
of  red,  purple,  black,  and  yellow,  rising  like  walls  of  ancient  and 
ruined  fastnesses  of  some  by- 
gone and  long-forgotten  race 
of  giants.  Down  the  river, 
now  rushing  rapidly  through 
narrow  banks,  now  spreading, 
broken  with  shoals  and  sand- 
bars, far  out  on  all  sides,  a 
mile  or  more  in  width  ;  down 
the  river,  gradually  open- 
ing up  the  bot- 
tom lands,  the 
deep  ravines  and 
"coulees"  running 
back  into  the  hills; 
sometimes  we  see 
deer  or  antelope 
feedinor  on  the 
banks,  or  rushing 
madly  away  in 
alarm  at  the  ap- 
proach of  the  noisy, 
smokinof    monster. 


At   night   we   "  tie 


up  "    at    convenient  ^  -wood-hawk." 

places,    for     naviga- 
tion   is    dangerous    through    a    country    where    there    are    no 
light -houses   or   warning    beacons,  and   on   a   river  where   the 
channel  is   so   constantly  changing.     As   the  light  fades   away 


150  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

in  the  west  we  slacken  speed  and  run  under  the  high  banks, 
when  the  "roosters,"  as  the  deck-hands  are  called,  scramble  up 
through  the  loose  sand,  dragging  the  heavy  ropes  behind  them, 
and  making  them  fast  to  trees,  or  to  spars  buried  deep  in 
the  soft  earth.  Sometimes  we  stop  at  a  "wood-yard"  where 
some  "squaw-man" — i.e.,  white  man  with  Indian  wife  —  or 
some  half-breed,  solitary  dwellers  in  the  wilderness,  turn  an 
honest  penny  now  and  then  by  the  sale  of  wood  to  the  oc- 
casional passing  steamer.  Many  of  these  "wood-hawks"  are 
honest  men,  no  doubt,  but  many  of  them  are  desperate  charac- 
ters, leading  a  lawless  life,  and  as  brutal  in  their  instincts  and 
as  dangerous  as  the  wild  red  men,  their  neighbors,  and  often 
connected  with  them  by  ties  of  blood  through  the  rather 
loose  marriage-bonds  of  savage  life.  At  one  of  the  little  land- 
ing-places mentioned  we  hear  rumors  of  a  raid  by  "Vigilantes" 
on  the  desperadoes  and  horse- thieves  who  have  established 
their  haunts  along  the  .banks  of  the  river  and  its  tributaries, 
and  for  a  long  time  have  endangered  the  lives  and  property 
of  the  honest  settlers  and  travellers  through  the  sparsely  set- 
tled country  south  of  the  great  stream.  A  band  of  them  had 
carried  their  audacity  to  such  an  extent  as  to  attack  the  escort 
of  an  army  paymaster  en  route  to  a  military  post  to  pay  the 
troops  stationed  there,  and  although  they  failed  in  their  object, 
at  least  one  of  the  soldiers  guarding  the  treasure  had  met 
with  his  death  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty  while  protecting 
the  property  of  the  Government. 

And  now,  one  bright  morning,  turning  a  great  bend  in  the 
river,  a  little  group  of  log-cabins  comes  in  sight,  their  gray 
walls  and  brown,  grass-grown,  mud  roofs  contrasting  with  the 
vivid  bright  green  of  the  surrounding  trees.  Back  from  the 
bank  a  little  way  some  freight-wagons  are  parked,  and  a  patch 
of  white  anions:  the   bushes   indicates   the   site   of  some  small 


WITH   THE    BLUECOATS    ON    THE   BORDER.  151 

camp.  "SALOON"  is  painted  over  the  door  of  the  most 
prominent  of  the  half-dozen  cabins,  and  two  or  three  roughly 
clad  men  are  standing  about  the  door.  As  we  approach,  and 
our  "  roosters  "  scramble  ashore  and  tie  fast,  preparatory  to  tak- 
ing on  board  some  logs  of  wood  stacked  up  on  the  bank,  a  man 
springs  on  the  deck,  and  running  up  to  one  of  our  passengers 
who  is  making  preparations  to  land  here,  with  an  excited  air 
hurries  him  back  into  the  cabin  again.  From  the  others  we 
learn  that  in  the  night  a  band  of  armed  men  had  ridden  into 
the    little    settlement,  and    going    to    one    of   the    ranches,  had 

forced  the  occupant — one   Billy  D ,  a  noted  character,  and 

suspected  of  complicity  with  the  desperadoes  of  the  region — 
to  mount  his  horse  and  to  ride  away  with  them.  But  a  few- 
moments  before  our  arrival  the  horse  had  returned  to  the 
ranch — riderless,  and  the  poor  woman,  whose  grief-stricken  form 
we  see  crouching  in  the  door-way  of  the  "saloon,"  has  hurried 
to  the  boat  with  shaking  limbs  and  streaming  eyes  to  warn 
her  husband's  brother  not  to  land  and  share  the  other's  un- 
known fate. 

Smoke  has  been  seen  rising  over  the  trees  down  the  river, 
vague  rumors  of  a  fight  below  seem  to  fill  the  air,  and  the 
feeling  of  excitement  communicates  itself  to  our  little  group 
of  passengers,  and  as  the  boat  swings  out  again  into  the  swift 
yellow  current,  and  continues  on  her' voyage  down-stream,  we 
gather  along  her  low  rails,  looking  out  curiously  and  anxiously 
ahead  at  the  high,  sandy,  tree -covered  banks  on  either  side. 
Rounding  a  long  point  of  land  running  out  into  the  river,  a 
call  from  the  pilot-house  attracts  our  attention  to  a  blackened, 
smoking  heap  of  ashes  on  the  left  bank  —  all  that  is  left  of  a 
ranch  that  had  stood  there — and  a  short  distance  farther  down 
we  slow  up  a  little  at  the  still  burning  ruins  of  another  house. 
"  It's  the  Jones  boys'  ranch,"  says  the  mate.     "  By  Jiminy,  the 


152  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

cow-boys  is  makin'  a  terrible  clean  sweep  of  the  kentry !"  That 
they  have  not  been  long  gone  is  evident.  Two  half- charred 
wagons  stand  in  the  "  corral,"  the  wooden  fence  of  which  is 
brightly  burning,  the  flames  licking  the  edge  of  a  great  wood- 
pile, that  even  as  we  pass  bursts  into  flames.  In  a  small  field 
of  waving  corn  joining  a  potato-patch  the  carcass  of  a  mule  is 
lying,  while  right  on  the  bank,  the  red  blood  still  flowing  from 
a  hole  in  its  head,  a  large  dog — a  hound — is  stretched  lifeless. 
Near  a  pile  of  debris,  which  may  have  been  a  kitchen  or  other 
out-house  of  some  kind,  for  a  pot  or  two  and  tin  camp-kettle 
are  hanging  from  the  low  fire -seared  branches  of  a  tree  hard 
by,  a  few  chickens,  shrilly  cackling,  are  huddled  together.  No 
other  sign  of  life  is  visible,  and  as  we  proceed,  the  quiet  of 
the  wilderness  is  broken  only  by  the  snort  of  our  steam -pipes 
and  the  thump,  thump,  of  our  great  wheel  beating  up  the  mud- 
dy waters.  Suddenly  there  is  a  movement  among  the  "  roost- 
ers "  on  the  deck  below ;  they  are  gazing  with  bated  breath 
and  blanched  faces  at  something  on  the  river's  bank.  Follow 
the  direction  of  their  gaze,  and  peer  into  the  dense  thicket 
where,  above  the  matted  willows  growing  up  from  the  black 
ooze,  that  dead  tree  raises  its  white,  barkless  branches  like 
skeleton  arms,  as  if  in  fearful  exultation  over  the  dreadful  fruit 
it  bears.  Almost  hidden  from  our  sight  by  the  tangle  of  un- 
derbrush and  low  trees,  somethincr  is  hano-ino-  there  motion- 
less  and  still,  something  formless  and  shadowy  in  the  gloom  of 
the  jungle,  something  indistinct,  but  fearful  in  its  mystery  and 
silence,  a  silence  rendered  yet  more  appalling  by  the  hoarse 
croaks  of  the  black-winged  ravens,  ill-omened  carrion  birds,  cir- 
cling above  the  thicket,  and  fluttering  on  the  topmost  branches 
of  the  blasted  tree. 

"Look!    look!    down    thar    by    them    cotton  -  woods  !    that's 
them!  that's  the  cow-boys!"     Half  hidden  in   a  mass  of  wild 


WITH    THE    BLUECOATS    ON    THE    BORDER.  155 

rose-bushes,  backed  by  the  gray  trunks  and  graceful  feathery 
foHage  of  the  poplars,  a  group  of  men  and  horses  is  standing. 
"  Y'd  better  git  inside,  pardner,"  not  unkindly  speaks  up  the 
mate  to  our  fellow- passenger,  he  who  had  been  warned  this 
morning.  "  Ef  thar's  any  of  them  fellers  knows  ye  they  might 
make  some  trouble  fer  ye !"  With  white  but  determined  face 
the  young  fellow  enters  the  cabin,  and  buckling  on  his  car- 
tridge-belt and  grasping  his  Winchester,  shuts  himself  up  in  one 
of  the  state-rooms,  resolved,  as  he  expresses  it,  to  "  make  'em  pay 
fer  me  ef  they  gets  me."  On  glides  the  boat,  and  we  gather 
close  up  to  the  rail,  eager  to  see  the  dread  horsemen,  the  re- 
sult of  whose  avenging  ride  we  have  witnessed  but  a  short 
half -hour  ago.  As  the  current  takes  the  boat  close  inshore, 
and  we  approach  nearer  and  nearer,  they  present  an  interest- 
ing tableau.  Most  of  them  have  dismounted,  and  are  standing 
at  their  horses'  heads  waist-deep  in  the  weeds  and  wild-flow- 
ers, bronzed -faced,  resolute -looking  men,  unconsciously  pictur- 
esque in  costume  and  attitude;  bright -barrelled  Winchesters 
swing  across  their  high  pommelled  saddles,  on  which  is  bound 
the  scanty  baggage  of  the  cow^-boy,  while  a  few  pack -mules 
quietly  crop  the  grass  a  few  paces  in  their  rear  under  the  care 
of  their  driver.  They  are  evidently  under  some  discipline,  for 
no  one  else  moves  as  a  tall,  handsome,  blond  -  bearded  man, 
flannel-shirted,  high-booted,  with  crimson  silk  kerchief  tied  loose- 
ly, sailor  fashion,  around  his  sunburnt  neck,  advances  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  with  courteous  wave  of  broad -brimmed  hat 
hails  the  boat.  Clang !  goes  the  gong ;  the  big  wheel  stops. 
The  stranger  politely  requests  information  about  the  purchase 
of  some  supplies,  and  inquires  as  to  the  news  up  the  river. 
Many  on  board  recognize  him  for  a  man  of  wealth  and  edu- 
cation well  known  in  the  Territory,  but  nothing  is  said  as  to 
the  errand  of  himself  and  his  men  in  this  distant  wild  region. 


156  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

During  our  parley  his  men  remain  quietly  at  their  posts,  and 
whpn  their  leader,  his  questions  answered,  returns  towards  them, 
and  we  move  on  again,  we  can  see  them  mount  and  ride  off 
over  the  hills  in  a  straggling,  dust-enveloped  little  column. 

Down  the  river,  now  slowly  and  cautiously  scraping  over 
the  wide  sand-bars,  now  swiftly  gliding  along,  aided  by  the 
rapid  flowing  current ;  down  the  river  through  the  Country  of 
.Hell,  with  its  broad  desert  plains  and  barren  brown  hills,  inky 
black  where  the  moving  clouds  cast  their  shadows;  down  the 
river  past  old  abandoned  Indian  trading- posts  fast  crumbling 
into  ruin,  past  the  lonely  military  telegraph -station,  where  we 
learn  of  the  passage  of  a  "  dugout,"  with  its  crew  of  fugitive 
desperadoes  flying  from  the  wrath  of  the  cow-boys;  down  the 
river,  between  perpendicular  sand-banks,  crumbling  away  at  the 
touch  of  the  "  rollers  "  caused  by  the  passage  of  our  boat,  scar- 
ing up  flocks  of  wild-geese^  and  swift-flying,  blue-winged  heron  ; 
down  the  river  through  lovely  prairies  covered  with  waving 
grasses  and  gayly  colored  wild-flowers,  into  the  Indian  country, 
until,  looking  across  one  of  the  long,  flat,  outrunning  points  of 
land  that  mark  the  constantly  recurring  curves  of  the  river, 
there,  shining  in  the  morning  sun,  the  distant  buildings  of  the 
military  post,  our  destination,  gleam  bright  under  the  blue, 
white,  and  scarlet  folds  of  the  national  standard  floating  grace- 
fully out  from  its  tall  pole  against  the  deep  warm  purple  of 
the  sky  beyond.  Hundreds  of  Indian  tepees  are  scattered 
over  the  wide  plain,  and  at  our  approach  we  can  see  the  in- 
mates hurrying  to  the  banks  to  watch  the  arrival  of  the  great 
steamer.  Wild  -  looking  savages,  their  faces  smeared  with 
streaks  of  bright  vermilion  or  orange,  are  watering  their  horses, 
their  gaudily  clothed  forms  reflecting  straight  down  in  the 
mirror-like  surface  of  the  water;  some  half-clad  lads,  who,  lying 
prone  upon   their  bellies  and  leaning  far  over  the  high  banks, 


^'1 

If 


WITH    THE  BLUECOATS   ON    THE    BORDER.  159 

have  been  fishing  in  the  stream,  pull  in  their  lines  and  race 
along  the  shore,  their  coarse  black  hair  floating  out  behind, 
and  their  bronze  -  colored,  naked  limbs  moving  with  untram- 
melled ease,  as  they  easily  keep  pace  with  the  boat;  young 
bucks  mounted  on  half-tamed  ponies  gallop  along,  and  mingle 
with  the  throng,  the  white  sombreros  and  light  blue  uniforms 
of  the  Indian  police  contrast  strangely  with  the  party-colored 
rags  of  their  fellow- savages.  As  we  slowly  paddle  up  to  the 
landing  we  make  our  preparations  to  land,  recognizing  our  ac- 
quaintances in  the  little  group  of  shoulder- strapped  bluecoats 
near  the  ambulance,  which  has  just  been  drawn  up  to  the 
bank  by  its  team  of  four  strong  mules,  and  are  soon  exchang- 
ins:  greetinos  with  our  friends. 

"  Here,  sergeant,  this  baggage  to  my  quarters,  please.  Now, 
then,  all  aboard!  Fire  away,  driver !"  And  with  crack  of  long- 
thonged  whip  and  simultaneous  lashing  out  of  four  pair  of 
iron-shod  heels,  away  we  go  over  the  prairie  to  the  post.  Hi, 
mules !  rattle  along  through  the  tepees,  dusky  faces  peering 
through  the  dark  openings  in  their  sides ;  swing  around  the 
corner  past  the  Agent's  house,  into  the  broad  road  by  the 
Agency  buildings,  past  the  traders  stores  with  the  lounging 
red -skins  sunning  themselves,  leaning  against  the  rough,  mud- 
plastered  walls,  or  going  in  and  out  of  the  open  door-way;  doff 
your  hats,  gentlemen,  to  smiling,  prettily  dressed  lady  driving 
by  in  pony- cart.  Rattle  along,  mules,  past  the  log-huts  of  the 
Indian  scouts,  with  the  little,  half -naked,  black -eyed  children 
scurrying  hastily  away  to  the  shelter  of  their  roofs,  to  where 
the  squaws  are  seated  on  the  ground  by  the  fires  in  the  open 
air,  or  engaged  in  some  menial  work — past  the  group  of  white- 
sheeted,  painted-faced  young  bucks  gambling  for  cartridges  on 
the  road-side — out  again  on  the  dusty  plain  through  outlying 
tepees — up  to  the  trim,  clean  "  adobe  "  barracks  of  the  soldiers, 


l6o  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

looking  over  the  parade — past  the  man3'-barrelled  Catlings,  grim- 
ly pointing  towards  the  village,  to  the  "  adobe  "  houses  of  "  The 
Row."  Swing  around !  past  the  guard-house,  white-gloved  sen- 
try rattling  his  glittering  rifle  smartly  to  shoulder  in  salute, 
and  bring  up  at  the  hospitably  opened  door  of  our  genial 
host's  quarters,  where  soon  nearly  all  the  of^cers  of  the  little 
garrison  are  orathered,  ea2:er  for  news  of  what  is  sfoinq"  on  in 
the  outer  world,  and  full  of  kindly  offers  of  their  services. 
The  events  that  have  taken  place  up  the  river  are  already 
known  to  them :  four  men  had  been  killed,  and  their  bodies 
consumed  by  the  fire,  at  the  fight  at  the  Joneses'  ranch,  others 
had  been  captured  and  hanged,  and  some — number  unknown — 
had  escaped.  Orders  have  been  received  from  below  to  look 
out  for  the  fugitives,  as  some  of  them  are  suspected  of  being 
members  of  the  band  that  "  jumped  "'  the  paymaster  some 
weeks  ao^o.  The  scouts  are  out  even  now,  but  have  not  been 
heard  from  as  yet,  and  these  horse-thieves  are  so  well  acquaint- 
ed with  the  country  that,  provided  they  don't  get  starved  out 
somewhere,  it  will  be  a  difficult  matter  to  catch  them.  In  a 
low,  whitewashed  room  in  a  rough  log-cabin  by  the  post-trad- 
er's stores  dinner  is  served  for  the  bachelors'  mess,  and  we 
fall  to  heartily,  and  thoroughly  enjoy  the  bountiful  and  pala- 
table fare,  after  the  monotony  of  the  scanty  menic  of  the  boat 
with  our  sometimes  not  over-nice  table  companions. 

Retreat  has  been  sounded ;  the  flag,  opening  out  its  graceful 
folds,  comes  waving  down  the  tall  staff  simultaneously  with  the 
thunder  of  the  evening  gun ;  and  we  cross  the  parade  for  a 
stroll  out  along  the  banks  of  the  creek  that  flows  tranquilly 
over  its  sandy  bed  in  the  deep  ravine  in  rear  of  the  post. 
Although  the  sun  has  disappeared,  the  western  sky  is  all 
aglow  with  his  light,  and  it  is  the  pleasantcst  time  of  the  clay, 
this  longr  hour  of  the  Northern  twilioht,  before  the  shadows  of 


WITH   THE   BLUECOATS    ON   THE   BORDER.  i6l 


I        ,;  I,!    /       ,1    -gA^%^/^       ^  1 

'  i'  lihlfvUN' nP"    /i\V'T:^j^'^       nioht  close  in  on  the  fair  land- 

iJiV-A  ^w^^^  "-  >    l^W>  scape  before  us.     Down   below 

|KAv\  .;;'^'     :  t^    W 

'^J^'4\fr^^''*''"^ia.c  '  V'^  US,  where  the  creek   spreads    out 

^^Ki^^T        \'        •  • 

"^    ^Ij^t4-^/  •    ,    \r^  ^''^^'^  '^    wide    and   deep    pool,  some 

'^  -^S^^^Jli  *'    '  ^  vounc^  Indian  o-irls  are  bathinor  in  its 

'     ''  cool  waters,  and   their   laughing   voices 

f?:K-?f.is,-'v-'!-':',  -fi^e    up    melodiously     in     the     still     air. 

\-|^ii|fv  Some  squaws  are  squatted  along  the  edge 

•  filling    their    earthen    water -jars    or    dipping 

their  struggling,  squawling  little  papooses,  clothes 

and  all,  into  the  stream. 

Following  the  path  along  the  bluff  towards  the  high  ground 
in  our  front,  stopping  for  a  moment  at  some  graves  fenced 
in  with  neat  white  palings,  where  some  poor  fellow's  are  silent- 
ly "awaiting  the  last  reveille,"  as  we  see  is  inscribed  in  rude 
characters  on  the  little  head-boards,  we  climb  to  the  top  of 
the  mound,  and,  turning,  look  back  at  the  scene  below  us.  At 
our  feet  lies  the  little  fort,  with  its  square  parade-ground 
flanked  by  the  "  Officers'  Row "  opposite  the  barracks  of  the 
men,  and  at  either  end  by  the  guard-house  and  quartermaster's 
stores  and  offices  and  the  post  hospital.  We  can  see  the  sol- 
diers gathered  about  the  doors  of  their  quarters,  while  in  the 
open  space  between  the  fort  and  the  Agency  buildings,  stand- 
ing white  and  straggling  beyond,  and  rising  above  the  tepees 
grouped  near  by,  some  young  Indians  are  racing  their  horses, 
yelling  and  whooping  like  fiends.  Still  farther  beyond,  where 
we  can  s,ee  the  shining,  curving  river,  and  the  creek  emptying 
its  waters  into  it,  the  village  is  lying,  the  smoke  from  its  many 
II 


l62 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 


fires  melting  into  the  air  above.  Very  gradually  the  light 
fades,  gray  shadows  are  stealing  over  the  prairie,  where  the 
great  herd  of  Agency  cattle  is  slowly  moving ;  the  platforms 
on  which  the  red -skins  deposit  the  bodies  of  their  dead  stand 
out  on  the  mounds  black  against  the  sky,  and  the  weird,  sob- 
bing wail  of  mourn- 
ing women  strikes 
discordantly  on  our 
ears.  Lights  begin 
to  twinkle  in  the 
barracks,  and,  ring- 
is    out    clear    and 


7-^-f^t^ 


mellow,  the  bu- 
gle  is   sounding 


"first    call"     for 
tattoo. 

A  day  or  two  pass 
quietly  and  uneventfully. 
We  visit  the  range,  and 
waste  some  ammunition  at  the  big  targets  with  the  men,  and 
sometimes,  the  regular  practice  over,  some  of  the  ladies — no 
mean  shots  —  join  us  at  the  ''  butts."  We  roam  about  the 
village  and  Agency,  and  scrape  acquaintance  with  many  of  our 


FAIR   SHARP-SHOOTERS. 


WITH    THE    BLUECOATS    OX   THE  BORDER.  163 

red  brethren,  sometimes  sitting  in  their  tepees  and  endeav- 
oring to  learn  as  much  as  we  can  of  the  mysteries  of  the 
sign  language,  and  to  master  some  of  their  guttural  phrases. 
Once,  while  chatting  in  the  quarters,  a  well  -  built,  rather  fine- 
looking  savage  flattens  his  nose  against  the  window-pane, 
shading  his  glittering  eyes  with  his  hand  and  gazing  curiously 
into  the  room.  "  By  Jove  !  one  of  your  professional  brethren, 
a  Simon  -  pure  American  artist,  as  you  shall  see.  We  must 
have  the  fellow  in  here  ;"  and  our  host  beckons  to  the  Indian, 
who  the  next  moment  stalks  calmly  into  the  room,  and  with  a 
o^uttural  "  how  "  and  shake  of  the  hand  with  one  and  all  of  us, 
seats  himself  without  further  ceremony  on  the  floor.  Lighting 
a  cigarette  which  we  hand  him,  he  folds  his  hands  over  his 
knees,  and  with  half -shut  eyes  lazily  puffs  away  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, when,  thrusting  one  hand  into  the  breast  of  his  tunic, 
he  draws  out  a  piece  of  white  muslin,  which  he  unfolds  and 
spreads  out  on  the  floor  before  him,  disclosing  a  colored  draw- 
ing of  the  "  Sun  Dance,"  executed  in  the  conventional  Indian 
manner,  and  with  a  naive  attention  to  detail  of  costume  and 
"  local  color.''  This  done,  he  placidly  resumes  his  smoking 
again.  We  express  due  admiration  of  his  talent,  and  our 
friends  induls^ino^  in  much  o-ood-natured  chaff  as  to  the  advisa- 
bility  of  our  purchase  of  this  specimen  of  aboriginal  art,  the 
time  and  trouble  saved  us  in  sketching  by  our  doing  so,  and 
the  ^reat  addition  it  would  be  to  the  art  treasures  of  some 
gallery  in  the  East,  we  open  negotiations  by  placing  a  silver 
dollar  on  the  floor  alongside  of  the  picture.  The  artist  scarcely 
lifts  his  heavy  eyelids,  but  slowly  blowing  a  long,  thin  line  of 
smoke  from  between  his  thick  lips,  he  raises  his  hand  indolently 
and  holds  up  three  grimy  fingers,  muttering  in  a  hoarse  voice 
the  word  "  dollar."  We  shake  our  heads  nes^ativelv,  and  after  a 
long  silence  he  indicates  by  signs,  twice  waving  his  arm  from 


1 64  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

left  to  right,  describing  a  semicircle  above  his  head,  that  it  has 
taken  two  days  to  produce  this  masterpiece,  and  then  extend- 
ing his  three  fingers  again,  blandly  and  sleepily  murmurs 
"dollar."  Inspired  by  a  happy  thought,  we  prevail  upon  him 
to  stand  up  for  a  moment,  and  seizing  our  sketch  -  block,  we 
proceed  to  make  a  rough  sketch  of  our  brother  -  artist,  filling 
in  the  outline  with  quick  washes  of  color,  and  tearing  off  the 
leaf,  we  hand  the  drawing  to  our  sitter. 

Never  shall  we  forget  the  expression  of  wonder  and  admi- 
ration—  we  say  this  with  all  due  humility  —  that  passes  over 
the  face  of  the  poor,  ignorant  savage.  His  stolid  demeanor 
vanishes  at  once,  he  laughs  aloud,  jumping  up  and  down  and 
holding  the  paper  to  his  breast  with  both  hands.  Suddenly 
he  picks  up  the  painted  bit  of  muslin  and  presses  it  into  our 
hands  with  smiling  face  and  head  nodding  violently,  and  then, 
placing  our  drawing  in  his  bosom,  he  folds  his  blanket  about 
him  and  stalks  out  of  the  room.  Proudly  we  gaze  about  us  ; 
at  last  our  genius  has  met  with  undoubted  recognition ;  and 
when  at  the  next  season's  exhibition  the  critics  mercilessly  "go 
for"  our  great  picture  —  that  we  are  going  to  paint  —  we  can 
calmly  look  back  to  this  episode  in  our  career,  and  know  that 
for  once  at  least  our  powers  have  been  truly  appreciated. 
Candor  compels  us  to  admit,  however,  tliat  when  our  admirer 
picked  up  his  own  work  of  art  and  forced  it  into  our  willing 
hands,  he  did  not  forget  to  pick  up  the  silver  dollar  too — and 
he  kept  it. 

One  Vv'arm,  sunshiny  afternoon,  two  or  three  days  after  our 
arrival  at  the  post,  as  we  lounge  in  a  rocking-chair  in  the 
"sitting-room"  of  the  quarters,  enjoying  a  quiet  smoke  and 
discussing  the  news  from  a  pile  of  journals  just  arrived  by 
the  semi -weekly  mail — which  has  to  be  brought  on  horseback 
or  by  buck- board  nearly  a  hundred  miles  over  the  prairie  from 


WITH  THE  BLUECOATS  ON  THE  BORDER. 


16: 


the  nearest  stage  station — the  oft -repeated  tap- tap-r-r-ratatattat 
of  the  drum  over  by  the  commandant's  office,  and  a  subdued 
sound  of  voices  near  the  barracks,  rouse  us  up  from  our  half- 
recHning  attitude,  and  we  step  to  the  window  to  see  what 
reason  there  is  for  the  unusual  stir.  Two  sweat -covered 
horses  stand  with  heaving  flanks,  heads  bowed  down,  necks 
out-stretched,  before  the  door  of  the  office,  and  an  Indian  scout 
squats  on  the  ground  beside  them,  holding  the  bridles  loosely 
in  his  hand.  In  spite  of  his  air  of  stolid  indifference,  his  disor- 
dered dress  —  loose  gray  shirt,  mud -splashed  blue  regulation 
trousers,  bead  -  embroidered,  yellow  -  fringed,  and  betasselled 
buckskin  leggings  —  show  that  he  has  ridden  hard  and  fast. 
Through  the  open  door,  standing  hat  in  hand  by  the  desk 
of  the  commandant,  who,  seated  in  his  office -chair,  half  turns 
around  and  looks  up  into  the  speaker's  face,  we  see  the  half- 
II* 


l66  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND  DRAGOONS. 

breed  chief  of  the  scouts  as  he  eagerly  and  somewhat  excited- 
ly makes  his  report.  The  door  of  the  quarters  next  to  ours 
opens,  and  a  young  officer,  booted  and  in  field -dress,  great- 
coat over  his  arm,  revolver  swinging  in  its  leather  holster  at 
his  side,  comes  forth  and  hurries  across  the  parade,  calling  out 
to  us,  in  answer  to  our  hail,  "  The  scouts  have  corralled  the 
thieves  up  on  the  Birdtail,  and  we're  going  to  fetch  them  in." 

Over  by  the  barracks  the  men  detailed  for  the  duty  are 
busily  engaged  preparing  for  the  march,  rolling  up  their  great 
gray  blankets,  slinging  on  haversacks  and  canteens,  and  buck- 
ling the  canvas  prairie  belts  filled  with  brass -sphered,  leaden- 
headed  cartridges.  One  by  one  they  emerge  from  the  door- 
ways of  their  quarters,  and  "  falling  in,"  rifle  in  hand,  answer  to 
their  names  as  the  roll  is  called  by  the  sergeants.  Rattling  up 
from  the  corral  come  the  wagons  that  are  to  convey  the  sol- 
diers across  the  prairie  to  the  place  to  which  the  bandits  have 
been  traced.  The  scouts  mount  their  jaded  horses  and  ride 
off  again,  while  the  young  lieutenant  raises  his  hand  to  cap- 
peak  as  he  receives  his  final  instructions.  "  Fours  right,  aarch  ! 
Forrud,  guide  left !"  and  the  soldiers  move  with  measured  step 
across  the  parade-ground  to  the  waiting  wagons.  "Fours  left, 
'aarch!  halt,  right  dvQSS,  krrzait T  the  little  detachment  stands 
in  line,  while  the  senior  sergeant,  saluting,  turns  it  over  to  the 
command  of  the  officer.  Sturdy,  hardy  fellows  this  little  com- 
pany of  American  infantrymen,  from  that  veteran  weather- 
beaten  soldier  on  the  right  there  to  the  blond -haired,  red- 
cheeked  lad,  who  has  but  recently  joined  with  the  last  batch 
of  recruits  from  the  east,  looking  in  their  easy-fitting,  service- 
able blue  uniforms  ready  for  anything  that  may  turn  up  from  a 
game  of  base -ball  to  a  fight  with  the  savages,  for  the  nonce 
their  allies ;  for  the  Agency  people  are  stirring  too,  and  a  wild 
and    motley  procession   of   Indians,  mounted  and  dismounted, 


A   HOT   TRAIL. 


WITH  THE  BLUECOATS  OX  THE  BORDER. 


169 


with  painted  faces  and  in  all  sorts  of  grotesque  costumes,  is 
already  moving  out  to  help  search  the  jungle  for  the  hiding 
wretches.  Without  further  delay  the  men  tumble  into  the 
wagons  and  are  pulled  out  on  the  prairie. 

At  dawn  next  morning,  accompanying  the  commandant,  we 
drive  out  to  the  scene  of  the  hunt,  for  veritable  hunt  it  is,  and 
that  after  the  noblest  of  all  game — human  beings  imaged  like 
ourselves.  Where  a  high  bluff  overhangs  for  miles  a  wide  mo- 
rass, a  thick,  almost   impenetrable  jungle    of  dwarf  willows,  so 


THE   CAPTIVES. 


I/O  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

matted  and  interlaced  that  the  light  of  day  scarcely  can  pene- 
trate through  the  dense  covering  of  their  leaves,  is  the  place 
where  the  scouts  have  first  discovered  signs  of  the  fugitives. 
Beyond  flows  the  river,  so  that  their  skiff,  having  been  found 
and  captured,  under  cover  of  the  night,  by  the  chief  scout,  who, 
swimming  and  wading  the  stream  from  the  opposite  shore,  had 
towed  the  boat  away  from  its  hiding-place,  the  escape  of  the 
desperadoes  is  cut  off  by  way  of  the  water.  We  find  the  bluff 
picketed  along  its  whole  extent  by  the  troops,  some  of  whom 
stand,  rifle  in  hand,  looking  out  over  the  swamp,  from  which 
the  mists  of  the  morning  are  slowly  rising,  while  others  are 
gathered  about  an  occasional  small  fire,  warming  their  chilled 
frames  and  hastily  cooking  a  frugal  breakfast. 

Down  in  the  thickets  the  scouts  and  some  of  the  soldiers, 
aided  by  their  savage  allies,  are  beating  the  bush  and  scatter- 
ing rifle-shots,  and  a  yell  now  and  then  from  the  Indians  indi- 
cate that  the  trail  is  hot.  Hot  it  may  be,  but  the  pursuit  is 
soon  given  up,  for,  with  the  exception  of  a  bloody  coat  and  a 
revolver,  nothing  more  is  found  after  the  capture  of  some  mis- 
erable, desperate  wretches,  who,  making  but  slight  resistance, 
surrender  on  recognizing  the  Government  uniform.  Miserable- 
looking  wretches  they  are,  as,  guarded  by  the  vigilant  soldiers, 
they  are  marched  into  the  post.  Wild -eyed  and  haggard,  cov- 
ered with  mud  and  dirt,  their  brier- torn  clothing  hanging  in 
shreds  from  their  frames,  emaciated  with  hunger,  one  of  them 
with  bullet- torn  arm  bound  in  blood-stained  bandages,  their 
abject  appearance  well  proves  that  "  the  way  of  the  transgressor 
is  hard,"  as  they  are  securely  confined  in  the  lock  -  up  of  the 
guard -house,  there  to  await  what  fate  has  in  store  for  them. 

The  ripple  of  excitement  on  the  usually  calm  surface  of  life 
in  the  remote  frontier  fort  caused  by  the  raid  has  subsided,  and 
the  garrison   settles  down  into  the   monotonous  routine  of  its 


WITH    THE   BLUECOATS    ON    THE    BORDER. 


171 


AN    ATTACK    ON    AN   INDIAN    VILLAGE. 


every- day  work.  Hay  and  wood  for  the  coming  long  winter 
are  being  cut  and  brought  in,  quarters  are  repaired ;  sometimes 
we  drive  out  for  a  shot  at  the  prairie-chickens,  or  visit  the 
Agency,  watching  the  distribution  of  rations  to  the  Indians,  or 
going  about  with  the  Agent  or  his  assistants,  studying  the  meth- 
ods by  which  the  savage  is  being  schooled  in  the  way  of  life  of 


172  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

the  white  man.  And  a  strange  sight  it  is  to  see  a  hundred  or 
two  fantastically  attired  braves  working  away  under  the  hot 
sun  with  pick  and  shovel  at  the  great  irrigating  ditch  which  is 
to  convert  the  grass -grown  plain  into  a  garden  of  plenty,  and 
who  but  a  short  year  or  so  ago  would  have  disdained  to  occupy 
themselves  wuth  anything  but  the  pleasures  of  the  chase,  varied 
by  an  occasional  murder  of  defenceless  white  men,  with  their 
wives  and  little  children.  But  the  buffalo,  whose  countless 
bleaching  skulls  dot  the  wide  prairies  for  hundreds  of  miles, 
have  become  almost  extinct,  and  starvation  and  the  swift  blue 
riders  of  the  Waseetcha,  scouring  the  country  through  and  fall- 
ing upon  the  scattered  villages,  bearing  dire  vengeance  under 
the  silken  folds  of  their  starry  guidons,  have  tamed  the  wild 
savages  into  sulky  submission,  and  have  gathered  them  in  on 
their  reservations. 

The  time  for  our  departure  is  at  hand.  From  the  top  of 
the  guard-house  the  lookout  has  signalled  "  smoke  way  up  the 
river,"  where  the  boat,  probably  the  last  one  down  this  season, 
is  slowly  making  its  way  through  the  now  almost  unnavigable 
channel.  We  make  our  farewell  calls  on  the  families  of  our 
kind  entertainers,  and  once  more  climbing  into  the  waiting 
ambulance,  rattle  away  to  the  landing-place.  It  is  late  in  the 
evening,  and  the  river  shines  like  fluid  gold  under  the  bright 
light  of  the  sky :  before  us  the  land  opposite  stretches  away 
flat  to  the  round  buttes  on  the  far  horizon  ;  naked  trees,  where 
a  fire  has  scorched  their  limbs,  rise  up  out  of  the  purple  un- 
dergrowth and  stand  out  against  the  sky  in  fantastic  shapes ;  far 
out  over  the  plain  some  figures,  men  and  horses,  are  moving. 

Patiently  we  wait  near  a  huge  pile  of  buffalo  robes  and 
other  freight;  the  usual  curve  in  the  river  prevents  a  sight  of 
the  steamboat,  but  we  can  see  her  smoke  rising  over  the  trees, 
where  she  seems  to  be  stationary.     "  Stuck  on  the  bar,  Til  bet 


WITH    THE    BLUECOATS    ON    THE    BORDER.  173 

mv  boots  !"  says  a  or^'eat,  lonQr-limbed  teamster,  stretched  at  full 
length  on  the  pile  of  skins;  "  Injin  Charlie  told  me  this  mornin' 
that  he  an'  Chicken  waded  the  river  at  the  Pint  yesturday.  I 
don't  believe  she'll  git  down  as  fer  as  this  to-night;  the  water 
is  turrible  low."  Still  we  wait,  loath  to  give  up.  The  crowd 
of  loungers — Indians,  Agency  and  traders'  employes,  soldiers 
— sit  or  stand  about  in  picturesque  groups,  a  wagon  filled  with 
ladies  and  children  from  the  fort  forms  the  centre  of  our  own 
little  party,  the  occupants'  soft,  pleasant  voices  and  ripples  of 
laughter  as  we  chat  together  forming  a  strange  contrast  to 
the  yells  of  the  half -grown  redskins  playing  at  some  savage 
game  in  the  long  grass  behind  us.  Grayer  grows  the  light; 
the  smoke  over  the  trees  above  there  rises  in  two  straight 
columns  in  exactly  the  same  place  where  we  had  first  seen  it. 
"  Blessed  ef  them  Injins  ain't  found  buffler,"  says  the  teamster, 
as  a  yell  comes  across  the  water  and  is  taken  up  and  repeated 
by  a  score  of  wild  voices  on  our  shore.  The  figures  on  the 
opposite  bank — three  horsemen — the  horses  loaded  down  with 
some  dark  burden  hanging  way  down  on  their  flanks,  have 
approached  nearer,  and  moving  out  on  a  point  of  sand,  seem 
to  be  debatinor  too-ether  where  to  cross  the  river.  Thev  dis- 
mount  and  wade  out  into  the  stream,  leading  the  horses,  which 
we  can  now  see  are  freighted  with  huge  pieces  of  deep  red, 
raw  flesh,  behind  them.  Curiously  we  watch  them  as  they 
wade  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  water,  now  rising  to  their 
waists.  The  current  is  running  strong,  and  the  horses  are 
showing  signs  of  uneasiness  as  they  seem  to  brace  themselves 
against  the  swift -fio  win  a;  tide.  "  There,  one  of  'em  is  down! 
No  he  ain't !"  They  plunge  forward  deeper  into  the  stream, 
and  strike  out  for  the  shore,  the  Indians  swimming  behind 
them,  and  grasping  their  tails  floating  out  on  the  water.  They 
arrive  without  accident  and  climb  up  the  steep  bank,  the  water 


174 


HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 


'A 


;irt\ 


dripping   from   the   huge   lumps 
of   meat    and    stream inof   from 
L  the    clothing    of    the    men, 

^IX ,  and   then   off  they   ride, 


with     exulting     cries,   to 
their   tepees.     "  Them    fel- 
lers   an'   all    their    cousins 
an'   wives'   relations   '11    hev 
full    stomachs,    an'    be     as         fVr'*'''J 
cocky  as  gophers  fer  a  week,        '^w     jj 
and   then   they'll  come  loafin'  ^^--^ 

round   the   corral   ag^'in,  beo-orin' 
fer   somethin-   to   eat,  an'   ready  -tl^^'i 

to    steal    anything    they   kin   lay 
ther  paws  on.     When's  that  thar 
ole    raft   goin'  to   git   hyar  ?     Not 
to-night,   ubetcherboots !"   and   the 


WITH    THE    BLUECOATS    OX   THE    BORDER.  175 

teamster,  lazily  raising  his  huge  frame  on  one  elbow,  gazes  up 
the  river  for  a  moment,  and  then,  sliding  down  from  his  ob- 
servatory on  the  pile  of  skins,  lounges  heavily  off  up  the  road. 

The  mosquitoes  are  out  in  swarms  now  and  are  trouble- 
some enough,  in  spite  of  the  sage-brush  fires  that  have  been 
kindled  here  and  there  on  the  bank,  and  into  which,  some  dis- 
tance below  us,  the  "  bucks  "  are  amusing  themselves  by  firing 
a  shot  now  and  then,  scattering  the  sparks  in  all  directions,  and 
laughing  and  yelling  in  savage  glee  at  their  rather  dangerous 
pastime.  Deeper  and  deeper  grow  the  shades  of  evening.  The 
moon  rises  red  and  angry,  and  casts  long,  quivering  reflections 
down  into  the  water.  "  She  cometh  not,  he  said,"  parodies  a 
musical  voice  from  the  wagon  ;  "  you  will  have  to  put  up  with 
our  rude  frontier  accommodations  for  another  nis^ht,  I  fancv." 
It  looks,  indeed,  as  if  it  were  useless  to  tarry  any  longer  to- 
night ;  so,  nothing  loath  as  far  as  enjoying  "  the  rude  frontier 
accommodations "  for  another  night  is  concerned,  we  drive 
back  to  the  post  in  the  darkness.  It  is  late  on  the  following 
afternoon  before  the  boat  finally  gets  over  the  bar  and  steams 
up  to  the  landing,  and  we  once  more  bid  farewell  to  our  good 
friends,  this  time  really  to  leave  them. 

Down  the  river  once  more ;  sometimes  aground  for  hours 
on  mud -banks  and  sand-bars,  literally  wading  over  them  inch 
by  inch  with  the  help  of  our  huge  spars;  sometimes  running 
free  and  swift  with  the  deep,  fast  -  flowing  current ;  down  the 
river  past  more  Indian  villages  and  trading -posts,  past  green 
hills,  white -streaked  where  the  gypsum  crops  through,  remind- 
ing one  of  the  English  downs,  across  the  reservation-lines,  past 
a  "  ranch  "  or  two — outlying  pioneer  posts  of  westward  -  march- 
ing civilization — down  the  river  into  boundless  tracts  of  oats 
and  grain  and  great  waving  fields  of  corn,  past  large,  prosper- 
ous-lookinG:  farms  and  fjreat  ranches,  on  under  the  iron  railwav 


176  HORSE,  FOOT,  AND    DRAGOONS. 

bridge  to  the  levee  of  the  busy  little  frontier  city.  Hi,  mules  ! 
drag  the  ramshackle  cab  up  the  steep  bank,  rattle  through  the 
dusty,  unpaved  streets,  flanked  by  the  one-storied  wooden  shops 
and  numberless  drinking- "  saloons,"  with  here  and  there,  tow- 
ering above  its  neighbors,  a  brand-new  brick  or  stone  edifice, 
its  front  covered  with  sign- boards  bright  with  fresh  paint  and 
gilded  lettering.  Ho!  ho!  there's  a  newspaper  -  office !  there 
are  sidewalks,  street  lamps,  telegraph-poles,  and  corner  loafers, 
and,  by  Jove,  a  soda-water  fountain!  Well,  we  are  in  civili- 
zation again  ! 

And  now,  as  we  stand  on  the  rear  platform  of  the  "sleeper" 
on  the  Atlantic  Express  this  fine  evening,  looking  back  over 
the  long  perspective  of  the  rails  as  we  fly  over  them  homeward 
bound,  we  take  back  with  us  to  the  far  East  grateful  remem- 
brances of  the  kind  and  "comradely"  treatment  we  have  met 
with  at  the  hands  of  the  American  soldier,  and  a  thorough 
appreciation  of  the  hardships  and  privations,  the  dangers  and 
vicissitudes  of  his  life  on  the  wild  frontier  —  an  honorable  life 
of  faithful  performance  of  his  arduous  duties  and  of  devotion 
to  his  colors. 


^  ' 


Webster  Family  Library  of  Veterinary  Medicine 
ummings  School  of  Veterinary  Medicine  at 


ubiuuiu  huad 


s«^?SJ>SS>v,  ■<Ss.S^^S;-; 


